The Ghost and Captain Janeway
by Hestia01
Summary: Captain Janeway receives a very belated gift, finding herself the owner of a real ghost!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Voyager or The Dresden Files. No harm or infringement intended. Don't sue me.**

**Author's Note: Thanks again to my beta, Dawn, for not reaching through the computer screen and throttling me, even when I probably deserved it. This was an ambitious piece for me to do. Sorry for any resulting insanity.**

**This takes place in Season 7 of Voyager, no particular timeframe, episode-wise, probably after Human Error, though. Anyway, enjoy! Read and review!**

**Yes, I know it's silly. Bear with me ;)**

Captain Janeway lounges in her quarters, absorbed in a good book, when she is interrupted by her door chime. Shoving aside instinctive yet unprofessional reactions to this, she sits up a bit straighter, sets her book down, and calls, "Come in?"

Seven of Nine enters, bearing a small cargo case. "Captain," she greets her, in her usual terse manner. "I discovered this while organizing the cargo bay. It appears as though it's been here since _Voyager_ was launched."

Janeway runs a hand over her forehead and eyes, obviously irritated. "And why did you bring it here now?"

"It's yours. Its contents aren't cataloged, but it is directed to you."

"Directed?"

"An inscription," Seven clarifies, innocently unaware that she might be bothering the captain in her long-sought-after free time by delivering this dusty old cargo case. She turns it so her commanding officer can see it better.

Leaning forward in her seat to give it a better look, Janeway goes pale. She practically snatches it from the former Borg's hands. "It was from Mark," she breathes in awe.

"Your intended. Who lost hope and abandoned you," Seven expounds needlessly.

"That's the one," Janeway quips. She pries the lid off and reaches inside. The first thing she finds is a note:

_Dear Kath,_

_I found this in an antique shop and thought you'd like it. You always go for the strangest old things. I can easily imagine it on your desk or nightstand. Good luck on your mission! See you soon._

_Love,_

_Mark_

Now both women are curious, and Janeway reaches in again and comes up with a rustling bundle of green tissue paper wrapped securely around something hard and rounded. She peels back the layers and is face-to-face with a strangely-carven skull.

Seven raises an eyebrow, for once holding her tongue in regards to her opinions. Her expression transparently states that her captain can "do better."

"As the Doctor has told me, it's the thought that counts," she pronounces diplomatically.

"Thanks for bringing this to me, Seven. It's...interesting. Good night," she farewells her.

"Good night, Captain. It would be a serviceable paperweight." And with that, she takes her leave.

Janeway sighs to herself as she examines the skull, wondering what Mark was thinking when he picked it out for her. True, she collects antiques, and her decorative tastes might strike some as unorthodox, but what gave him the idea that she'd want a mutilated skull of her very own? _Mark knew me better than that...or did he? _She gives his note another look: from here it almost sounds like he's mocking her anachronistic tendencies. Maybe this was meant as a joke, a gag gift? Then why send it on such an important occasion as _Voyager_'s first mission? Couldn't that have waited until she got home? Why not sneak it into a pile of pastel bridal shower gifts and watch her shriek? She shakes her head, putting the skull on her nightstand as suggested. She gives it a pat and says aloud, "Now where in the world did you come from?" She traces the runes that make the already grim-looking thing even more alarming. "What do these markings mean?" She doesn't notice that the eyes slowly acquire a dim orange glow. "I guess there's no way to know. Unless you can come out and tell me."

"Now _those_ are the magic words," a gleeful disembodied voice announces. Billowing smoke and flame, the spirit makes its fiery appearance. It touches the floor and takes the shape of a strikingly handsome man, tall and fair. He looks about sixty years old and has pale green eyes. He is richly dressed in a bold black and red suit. His wrists are bound in ornate silver bracelets, and a large red-stoned ring is on his finger. His appearance tells of an inborn aristocratic bearing, polished and dignified

He peers around in amazement with a drawn-out gasp,"What the hell?" His gaze falls on the captain, who is staring silently. She whips her hands away from the skull in alarm, desperately cogitating how to address this situation.

"Oh, hello!" he greets her. "Would you mind telling me how long I was in?"

Janeway gulps, "In that skull?" The man nods encouragingly. "At least seven years, and before that it was in an antique store."

"Antique store?"

"A place where they sell strange, old things."

"Like me," the ghost surmises. "Oh, we haven't...yes, it seems introductions are in order. I am Hrothbert of Bainbridge, but you may call me Bob."

"Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship _Voyager_," she returns formally.

"Captain? You're the ship's captain? Well, that's good! And such a lovely creature, too," he compliments with a grin. "Now, Captain, can you tell me what year this is? I...seem to have missed a great deal." He gives the room another look around, looking very apprehensive. "I hope I haven't been gone terribly long; my master will be worried and I must get home to him."

"Your master?"

"Yes. Harry Dresden. He's in the book. Chicago's only professional wizard for hire."

"Chicago? A _wizard?"_

"Yes. How soon can you return me to him? He probably can't afford to reward you through monetary means, but I'm sure he can repay you in trade."

Janeway hasn't taken her eyes off the strange man for a second, although her alarm is slowly wearing off. "That's...going to be a problem. We're still 40,000 light years from Earth."

Now it's Bob's turn to be alarmed, "40,000 _light years ?_ I think I've been in there for _considerably_ longer than seven years. What was I doing in an antique shop? How long was I there? What happened to Harry Dresden? What year is this, good lady?!"

"2377," she answers mildly, unable to answer his other questions.

Hearing this number, Bob recoils, looking very ill. "You're joking, aren't you? That's impossible. It's ridiculous! Please, I need to get home to Harry. He's going to be very upset that I'm gone...and frankly, so am I!"

Janeway's bewilderment soon ebbs away, making her feel rather sorry for the strange creature before her. "It's 2377, we're in deep space, and even at top speed we won't reach Earth for decades."

To his dismay, he sees no sign of untruth in her, and everything around him is so foreign and beyond his grasp that he has no choice but to believe it. The view from the window offers proof enough that they are indeed in space. The rest of it must be true, too. A cold, awful feeling settles in his heart..."He's dead," Bob realizes quietly. "Dead..." he looks absolutely grief-stricken, so lost and alone. He doesn't even register the other person in the room while he mourns for his friend. He wanders the room aimlessly, his hands drawn up around his shoulders as his new master looks on with a touch of pity.

"I hope this isn't a rude question, but what _are_ you, exactly?" Janeway wants to know. Her mind is full of possibilities. Might he be a rogue Q? An 8472? A hologram or hallucination? A prank, an illusion, some covert weapon? She mentally bristles, ready to act.

"I'm a ghost, former sorcerer, repository of all knowledge and practical magical lore. And very disconcerted," he adds.

Odd as it is to have a ghost in her quarters, the strange old man seems so utterly baffled by his predicament that Janeway suddenly feels the urge to comfort him. The poor thing is practically beside himself with worry. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

With a disinterested wave of his hand, he continues his circuit around the room, passing through furniture as he might. The slight tingling feeling it gives him is helping shake off the effects of being confined for so long. "You've already helped, my dear. You let me out. I've never been in my skull for that long. Must have been hundreds of years. I'm missing such an awful lot!"

Janeway raises her eyebrow, "I released you? How?"

Bob smiles at her gratefully, "You told me to come out so you could find out about me. I thank you for that. Before this, the longest I'd been shut in was a week, and that was when Harry was-" he breaks off, cringing at the name, at the memories it dredges up. "I'm sorry, I can't..."

"The last person who owned you? Your master?"

"My friend, my love," he corrects dismally. "My love...Oh, I would have given anything to be able to touch him, just to be near him, to be real to him! He's not as bad as his superiors think. He may have touched the Black but he was never lured by it. Never gave in to selfishness. I had never see anyone wield it heroically before, but he was magnificent."

"The Black?"

"Black magic," Bob clarifies. "Nasty stuff, and I should know. I remember wishing he could have learned from my mistakes rather than having to make them himself. But...what's done is done, and he's certainly done if it's really been over three hundred years like you say. I wish I could know what happened to him. Did he banish me to my skull on a whim and then meet his death shortly thereafter? Did I sit unclaimed in his office after his death, get snatched up by hooligans and hawked at a pawn shop for a pittance? Was I stolen out from under his very nose... did he die alone and afraid? I couldn't have done much for him at that point, but I would have comforted him, eased his passing...held his spirit to my heart before he was called away..." Bob's eyes fill with tears, as do his new mistress's. He wipes his face, remarking, "Oh, now I'm making you cry! And you have nothing to do with us!"

Janeway brushes at her face as well, clearing her throat. "It's nothing, I'm fine, it's just...a lot of us here have had similar thoughts for the past seven years. We've all left family and loved ones behind, and we don't know what's happened to them all. You hit a note rather close to home, that's all." Janeway sniffs and hastily dabs at her eyes, pulling herself together as quickly as she can.

Bob nods sympathetically, relieved that this woman is at least somewhat familiar with the separation he's feeling. "I want to go home," he mutters childishly. "I want...I want Harry. I want to feel him hold my skull close. It felt so nice when he did that. Almost like..."

Knowing that she's a poor substitute at best, a total stranger he'd just met, Janeway picks up the skull again. "Like a hug?" She cradles it awkwardly, stroking the top.

Bob sighs with a small smile, crossing his arms over himself again as he feels her. "Oh, you're nice. But I wish..." he cuts himself off, ashamed of how petulant he sounds, like a child whining for something he can't have. Determined not to mope over Harry and the life he knew with him, Bob tries to put on a brave face. "Shall you be my master now?"

Looking from the skull back to Bob, Janeway makes a wry face, disgusted by the very suggestion. "I really don't like the idea of owning a person. Frankly, it goes against everything I've ever known was right."

"Well, someone's got to own me," Bob informs her. "And I'd really rather not have to make introductions with another person so soon. You..." he falters, glancing significantly at the skull in her hands, "You do feel nice, my lady." Janeway recoils, visibly flinching at this form of address. She looks down and away, blushing in embarrassment, as though he'd offered her a horrible insult. Bob pouts, tsking, wondering what's gotten her so upset. "My lady?" Again, as though struck, Janeway skitters back, putting the skull down and stepping away from him. "Does...that mean something else now? I understand that languages tend to change over time."

Unable to explain her distress and disgust, she waves him aside with both hands. He sounds unlike anyone she's known. She then considers the possibility that he wasn't mocking her with his choice of words. She's reminded of a few of her holodeck characters and their old-fashioned speech, remembering how a few had even charmed her. Slowly, she turns back around and regards him again. "I'm just not used to being spoken to like that. People don't say those things and mean them anymore."

"Curious. Well, when in Rome," Bob allows. "How can I say that without insulting you, my dear?"

This verbal petting has gone too far and she snaps, "Captain! Please, call me Captain! Don't...talk to me like that!"

"Well!" The ghost sniffs, "No need to shout, _Captain_. You could have told me that to begin with. I told you what I prefer to be called, but you offered me no such preference. It would be presumptuous to address my new master by name and I didn't know how you felt about your title. If I came off the wrong way, I apologize, but to be perfectly frank, how was I to know how to address you?"

"All right, fair point. What can I do...with you?"

"I have perfect memory. I could assist you with your work, whatever that might be," Bob suggests.

Janeway shakes her head, "We have the computer for that, I don't need an assistant."

"Oh. Is there anything you'd like to learn? I have a very wide range of expertise, if I do say so myself-" he catches her look. "The...computer does that, too." His master nods. "Do you have any wizards among your ranks?"

With a look that she normally reserves for Q, Janeway balks. "Wizards?! There's no such thing."

"I'll try not to take that personally. Oh, what would Harry say to someone like you?"

"Look, I obviously don't need-"

Making one last attempt, Bob asks, "How about company? A friend?" He can see Janeway's annoyance vanish in an instant. Her shields go down and she stares at him. He then sees just a glimpse of just how alone she is.

Her eyes darken again and she tries to prop her barriers back up. "You don't want to be my friend," she mutters dispiritedly.

"Well, we can't say that for certain, can we? Surely there's something we can do together, talk about, share?" Bob can tell that as innocuous as his words are, they're hitting her where she lives.

Slowly, she nods, looking a bit more hopeful. "My name's Kathryn. You...can call me Kathryn." She raises a finger, "But only when I'm off duty."

"Understood, Captain," he salutes with a rakish grin. Then, his resolve cracks. "Oh, I miss Harry!" He sighs heavily and looks perfectly dismal once again. "This is going to be hard. I was with him for so long. I'm afraid I've been rather spoiled as a servant," he gives a hollow laugh. "I don't want to let him go. He was so good, so good! He certainly wasn't perfect, nor was he the most talented wizard I've served, but he had a good heart. He meant well, and wanted to do well. He cared about others, even above his own needs. I knew him since he was a child, we...belonged to each other."

Bob looks over at his new owner, looking for some sign that she understands or is even listening. She nods silently, content to let him speak.

"When he inherited me, we weren't quite sure how that was going to work. I'd been the master and he'd been the student for so long. He was my apprentice, and he made me proud at times. When it was just us, we tended to treat each other as equals. Equals, dear lady, can you imagine?! That I'd have a master who thought of me and treated me as a person instead of a valuable commodity?! Unbelievable! That's what I mean by spoiled. I may chafe a bit under the yoke after that plush job, but I'm sure I'll unlearn whatever bad habits I picked up there. The way I'd speak to him...like we were brothers. And he'd dish it right back, the dear boy. I did enjoy that. Of course, if he got annoyed at me and wanted to have the last word, he'd send me to my skull. That was the worst he'd do, though, he never commanded or restricted me in any other way. He..._asked_, he _engaged_, not like I was just a thing for him to order about. My own, my love," he sighed nostalgically.

"If he knew I was here, and _now_," he chuckles darkly, "oh, he'd have a fit! If he saw me now..." he looks wistfully out the window, shaking his head a little sadly, "If he could see this...he'd laugh so hard. His stuffy old teacher stuck on board a far-flung spaceship, like something out of Jules Verne."

Janeway smiles weakly, empathizing with the ghost's grief. She listens as he rhapsodizes about his beloved previous master. His speech casts the relationship in a much better light. His last owner doesn't sound like he ruled over Bob with a whip in hand. She's glad that Bob has such positive memories of him. He doesn't come across creeping or servile, and he has truly touched her with his offer of friendship. If that's all it takes to hold up her end of the master/servant relationship, it sounds like something she can live with.

"I don't think you're going to have to unlearn anything, Bob, and I have no intention of setting a yoke at your shoulders. No need to worry about chafing." And with that, the whole day seems to crash in on her. She made hard promises to herself when she left the bridge that evening: she'd curl up with the book she's been reading, put on some music, have a bath, and let someone else worry over the details. The last one was actually following the Doctor's orders. He told her the other day on no uncertain terms that she needs to quit taking work home with her. There are other able-bodied and able-minded people on the ship, and she needs to trust that she doesn't need to oversee it all 24/7. He even taught her a brief mantra: "It's somebody else's problem."

Clearing her throat as she ponders her evening plans and checking the time, Janeway asks, "So, do I need to have you do anything or..." she trails off uncertainly. "Look, Bob, I haven't lived with a man in a very long time. Humor me on this."

"Certainly, Madam."

Her lips twitch in an involuntary smile at his earnest reply. "I'm going to take a bath."

"And you want to be sure that I won't leer at you through the wall, is that right?" Bob clarifies, giving her fully-dressed body a quick sweep. It's clear that he approves.

"Yes."

It's not quite a restriction, in the formal sense, but Bob definitely feels a touch of resistance to giving her a smart-alec remark. "You can trust me. I'll be good," he promises. _Damn my attempted honor, I'm sure she's absolutely delicious, too._

Janeway unzips her jacket and flings it over a chair before disappearing into the bathroom. Moments later, he hears the sound of running water, a light splash and a contented sigh. Light piano music echoes from her sanctuary. He bites his lip nervously as he tries to keep his word. He gives her bedroom another look around just for the sake of something to do. He runs his finger though a larger-sized PADD and is astonished to see it light up!

"Kathryn! Kathryn!"

Startled out of her drowsy haze, she jumps with a loud _splash!_ "What is it?"

"This thing on the table, it lit up when I came in contact with it!" He peers at it curiously. It appears to be in some other language. "I certainly can't read it, so if it's a private matter it will most likely remain so."

Slipping back into the hot soapy water, Janeway growls to herself in frustration, "What year did you say you were from?"

"The last I knew, it was 2008. I was born in the 10th century, though."

"You're 1400 years old?!" She calls in disbelief.

"Well, yes. I do look good for my age, don't you think?" He calls back, feeling as though they're slowly gaining ground towards friendly terms.

Janeway laughs easily, "That thing you turned on is called a PADD. It holds information."

This piques Bob's interest greatly. "Can it hold any information?"

"Yeah, it's not hard to transfer things onto them. Why?"

By now, he's grown tired of shouting and tests distance he can be from his skull. Thankfully, it's resting on the nightstand nearest to the bathroom. Carefully, he advances, not wanting to get pulled up short at top speed. He finds he can just peek around the door to see in. "Might you be so kind-" and he's interrupted by his master's indignant shriek of alarm. Unperturbed, he continues, "-as to make a few up for me? I do enjoy reading but haven't been able to do it conventionally in quite some time." He smiles hopefully, gazing at her.

Janeway's tub is filled with bubbles, so she is more or less covered, but she still brings her arms up over herself. "Will you stop staring? Can you at least turn around?" Her face reddens and she gives him an angry splash. "

Bob looks up at the ceiling. "I should tell you, beneath that rather heavy-looking getup you had on before, you have quite a nice figure."

Flinging another spray of water at him uselessly—it passes right through him and splashes the wall—she demands, "Get out!"

"Fine, fine," he mutters as he stands with his back to the doorway, looking into the bedroom. "Look, in case you didn't realize, I was trying to say you are rather beautiful."

"Bob!" She growls.

"What am I doing wrong? Does that mean something different now, too? Dammit, Kathryn, I was only trying to be nice! All I was hoping for was some reading material since it seems I can actually interact with your...contraptions." He examines his fingers in amazement. There's a long silence. "You're not drowning in there, are you, Kathryn?"

"No, I'm not drowning," she seethes.

"Oh, good. Now please, just tell me how to say what I'm trying to say without ruffling your feathers. I deem thee of moste faire countenance. That is all. No harm intended, nor slur suggested. For Heaven's sake, my dear, how do men of your century pay compliments to their ladies?" There's no answer. "Are you sure you're not drowning?"

As annoyed with him as she is, Janeway has to chuckle at his persistence as well as his concern. "I'm fine. Most of the time, men don't say that kind of thing unless they want something."

"Want something? Oh! You mean sex! Playing 'masters and apprentices,' 'hide the wand,' 'the old vanishing underthings trick.'"

Janeway is finding it difficult to stay angry when he says the oddest things in such a serious and straightforward tone. "Yes, that."

"Well, my dear, as a ghost I have no such bodily functions. More's the pity," he adds. "Tell me, Captain, is there a problem with a marked decrease in population on Earth? If there is, I _think_ I know the reason. That is, if everyone there is as wound up as you. I can't pay a simple compliment without being brought up before the tribunal."

It feels strange to take the ghost at his word, but given the choice between that and dragging this argument out for another round, it seems a fairly clear choice. "All right, if I just say thank you now will you stop?"

"If you wish. We obviously have some form of cultural barrier to break through." He sighs, feeling very homesick, this time for his home in Bainbridge, England. For the sorceress he loved there, long ago. His illusion of a body remembers her soft flesh against his. He moans softly to himself in frustration. "Please forgive my boldness, Captain. I forgot my place. You don't have to bother about the reading materials. It was just a thought." And with that, he slinks away dejectedly, misting away into his skull.

_Good_, Janeway thinks with a huff, now determined to enjoy her bath properly. Her relaxation time has been cut abysmally short tonight, and it all started when Seven brought in that horrible skull.


	2. Chapter 2

About an hour later, she emerges in her nightgown, looking around the room for the ghost. Just as she begins to hope that it was all in her imagination, she calls softly, experimentally. "Bob?"

The skull's eye sockets light up orange. "Yes, Master," he drones heavily.

She scowls at being called this, but lets it slide. "What are you doing in there?"

"Sulking." There's a pause as he decides to go on. "I was trying to make friends. Like you wanted, like we agreed on. Perhaps you were partially right: you said that I wouldn't want to be friends with you. I think you just didn't want to make friends with me. I only thought...we're both all alone, it seems. I assumed you wished for friendship."

"That's not the issue."

"Please tell me what I can say to you. Why does it make you so angry? Is it wrong to be pretty?"

"It...suggests that it's all I want out of life. That I owe you something for saying it."

This is too much for him to wrap his head around while he's still _in_ his own head. He whirls out and appears before her once again. "I must have heard you wrong. I thought I heard you say that by telling you that you're pretty, it's implying that it's all you want out of life." She nods. "Well, I don't know you very well yet, but since you captain a spaceship I would say you have many more important aspirations and concerns beyond personal vanity. So...I'm not saying these things because I'm after your body, and I don't mean to suggest that you're shallow. Can't I-"

"No," she answers shortly. "Just drop it, please."

"As you wish."

Janeway sighs, wanting to straighten things out. Something she'd always heard about not going to bed in the middle of an argument. "What sorts of reading materials would you like?"

Bob flinches at the subject change, but is pleasantly surprised that she may be granting his request. "Oh, anything! But I _am_ partial to a good romance, if you know what I mean. That is, unless they've been outlawed by now."

With a short laugh, Janeway smirks, "No, I can get you a few of those. I've- well, I..."

An equally knowing grin crosses the ghost's face, "Aha! Let me guess, you'd buy them 'for a friend.' For your mother or maiden aunt. They're certainly not _yours_. Right?"

With a nervous grin, Janeway ponders the contents of her library. It's not all scientific journals and Irish poetry. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Then why do they call it a guilty pleasure?" Bob counters smoothly.

"Touche."

This subject has cheered Bob right up. He smiles toothily at her, "Oh, I hoped I'd like you! I'm glad you're not as tightly-wound as you seem. Now listen, I apologize for taking liberties. I warned you I would have some bad habits to break. I'm used to saying what I think. I didn't mean it in the sense of a workman on the street, cat-calling raucously. I'll try to think of a better way to...make my observations."

Janeway nods briefly, rubbing her neck. "All right, all right." With a deep breath, she steadies herself, glad that they were able to clear the air. She heads for her bookcase and selects a book that she hopes Bob will enjoy. Giving the back cover a glance, she speaks aloud. "Computer..."

_Beep!_

"Data transfer, from my library to digital format. Use replicator history to confirm."

_Boop-beep!_ "Title?"

Janeway pauses, blushing a little. "The Inconvenient Duchess"

_Beep-boop!_

A moment later, a large PADD appears in the replicator. Janeway takes it and offers it to Bob, who folds his arms and raises his eyebrows. To clarify, he passes his hand through the wall with a pout.

Understanding his difficulty now, she sets it down on the end table near his skull, hoping that will do.

"Hmm, perhaps something higher?" He demonstrates by assuming a hunched-over posture, drumming his fingers together in a fussy manner.

"I'll see what I can do. Tomorrow, maybe?"

Bob looks very pleased. "That would be...acceptable." He clenches his hands, keeping them close to his body to stop himself from reaching for her. "Thank you very much, my...Captain," he catches and corrects himself in time. The last thing he wants to do is make his new master angry again after she's been so kind. "Are you about to retire for the evening?"

With a glance at the chronometer, Janeway guesses, "In a while. It's still kind of early."

"Marvelous! We can get to know each other, then! I've probably bored you with my whole long and tragic history, I haven't found out anything about you, and I really must. If we are to be friends, that is."

Janeway can't help but be a tad bemused by his adamance that they are to be friends from the beginning. She remembers how long he must have been trapped in his own skull, alone and forgotten. What a treat for him it must be to have company again. Slowly, she sinks down onto the bed, wishing she could offer the ghost a seat. She gazes up at him, taking a moment to appreciate that she may seem just as odd to him as he does to her.

"Well, I grew up in Bloomington, Indiana," she begins, wondering how much detail to go into at first. Since Bob has only given her his most recent history, she assumes she can do the same for him. "I joined Starfleet about as soon as they'd let me..." She peters out abruptly, suddenly nauseated by memories. As if her brief words were an invitation, images fly up to the front of her brain once more. Dreadful memories, images she's long fought to suppress. Janeway brings a hand up to her mouth, swallowing hard.

"Kathryn?" Bob prompts, looking rather concerned. "You don't have to relive unpleasantness for me. Believe me, I understand. Some wounds don't heal. Don't reopen them for my sake." He looks her over; she's gone pale and faint, and her eyes are brimming with tears. The urge to intervene, to offer some help, is irresistible.

He stoops before her, asking softly, "Do you trust me?" She gasps sharply, looking up at him with streaming eyes.

After a short hesitation, she nods. "This might feel strange," he warns, reaching his hand through her forehead. Janeway gasps, her eyes now wide in alarm, but she doesn't jerk away from him. His spectral hand feels cool and soothing; it's as though he's gently pressing those awful thoughts back where they belong. She listens as he murmurs an incantation in what sounds like Old English.

"Hweorfan, hweorfan. Se geardagas is geardagas."

Tears stream down her cheeks as he helps to set her mind right again. Eyes closed in concentration, Bob chants the same strange phrases over and over, half-singing them. Tears run down his face, too, as he shares her pain. The foreign words sound comfortable and beautiful in his mouth. Then gently, he shushes her. She hasn't made a sound, but his intent was not necessarily to quiet, but to soothe. When he's done, he withdraws his hand and looks at her again.

"Better?"

Janeway nods shakily. "What was that? What did you say?"

"It translates to 'Back, back. The past is past.' I have very few powers left, but...some things are still within my abilities." He sounds almost embarrassed for doing such a simple spell.

"Thank you."

After touching her thoughts, seeing her dark patches and inner demons, Bob feels decidedly closer to her. Certainly more understanding. "I'm sorry," he tells her simply. "Will you be all right?"

"Yes, fine... Anyway..." Janeway sniffs, feeling much better now that those bad memories have been tamped down once more.

"Your past...it's all bad, isn't it?"

With a humorless chuckle, she drops her head down. "Seems like it sometimes. There have been good parts, though."

"Tell me about something you enjoy. What makes you happy?" Bob coaxes, truly wanting to see her happy now that he's seen the worst that's happened to her.

"I like nights to myself, hot baths, and weird conversations with dead people," she answers with a wry grin.

"Shall I go in again?" he offers, holding out his hand. She makes a declining gesture. "All I mean is, it seems you've been through the ringer."

This morbid observation actually makes her laugh, truly. "Oh, yes. I just..."

"You feel guilty about moping over your own tragic past." It's not a question. "My dear, you have every reason to 'mope' over these sorts of things." Then, Bob brightens, clapping his hands together as he has an epiphany. "I know! You might benefit from a good dose of schadenfreude! You know, when someone else's misfortunes make you feel better? Not that I'm trying to top you or anything. I saw, you've had serious problems! The fact that you're not in a lunatic's asylum and are in fact a successful, functioning member of society speaks volumes about your character!"

She smiles, feeling much more pleased with these awkward words of praise than she ever could have over his physical assessments. "Well, spending the last three hundred-plus years in your own skull can't have been a picnic."

"No, definitely not. Fortunately, my perception of time is different when I'm in. It could have been hours, it could have been days, but no matter how long it is, it's just a long time."

Janeway brushes her hand over her forehead where Bob entered it. It's true, she already feels better. She heaves a sigh, "Thanks again for that. It was weird, but...kind of nice."

"Sometimes weird is part of the job," he grins at her.

Janeway looks startled by his observation. "Where did you hear that?"

"Hear what? That weird is part of the job?" Bob asks innocently, unaware of the cause for her alarm. "Nowhere, really. Why?"

"I've said that same thing for ages. Did you...?" she trails off, bringing a hand to her forehead where he'd gone into her.

Bob immediately backpedals, hands in the air defensively. "I didn't get it from you. I didn't go in that far. That was entirely a coincidence, my dear, I assure you."

"Do you swear you didn't..." she can't even think of the word she's looking for.

"I swear on my own grave. I promise you, I didn't intrude. I was only trying to help." Bob gestures fluidly between them, stepping back toward her. "Look, my dear. You're captain of a spaceship, I'm a dead former sorcerer. Weird _is_ part of the job for people like us!"

The earnestness of her friend's response calms her down. She takes a deep breath and runs her fingers through her hair. He was obviously trying to be funny when he alarmed her with his turn of phrase. "That's certainly true," she agrees.

Looking over at the nightstand, Janeway picks up the skull again. She gives it a pat and then clutches it close to her body. "I think I'm glad that Seven dug this out of storage now."

Taking a moment of silence to just enjoy being within her grasp, Bob stands over her with his arms folded smartly. "Now, there are a few rules regarding ownership of me. You can't go around telling everyone that you have a ghost living with you. I don't care if the High Council can't enforce it out here; I'd rather not chance it. Besides, then you get people asking stupid questions, making me walk through things or jump into bodies or do 'ghost stuff' for their entertainment. I was once a respected and powerful sorcerer. I won't be used as parlor-room entertainment." He sniffs stuffily, sounding as though he'd been forced in the past to exist under these conditions.

"Understood. Did other people do that to you?"

With a disgusted sneer, Bob rolls his eyes, "Yes. It was dreadful. No respect at all, I tell you. It's bad enough to be cursed for all eternity and bound to that wretched thing," he gives his skull a black look, "but to be reduced to a performing monkey is beneath my dignity!"

"Don't worry, I don't plan on telling anyone. No one would believe me anyway." Then, checking the time again, she stretches and stands. "I think it's time for bed. I have to get up at oh six hundred. Anything you need before I turn in?"

"No, I have no physical needs. Thank you."

"Want me to put your book out in the living room? Leave a light on for you?"

Bob thinks about it. "If it's all the same, I'd like to stay close by. First night in a new place."

"Do you have to stay in one place?" Janeway is confused: he sounds as though he would be rooted to whatever room she left him in.

"I can't go far from my skull. Part of my curse, you see. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow, if you'd like. It doesn't make for a pleasant bedtime story."

"I'll take your word for it. Good night, Bob."

"Good night, Kathryn."

He returns to his skull, resting on her nightstand. Being a ghost, he doesn't sleep, but he is lulled to a peaceful state by his new master's sleep-sounds. He ponders what he saw in her mind, what horrors and tragedy she'd endured. Unsure whether it's simply out of loyalty to his owner, or something else, Bob decides that he wants to help her. How he might do this remains a mystery.

Hours pass, and he reappears by her bedside, curiously examining her as she sleeps. Just he always did when watching Harry sleep, he feels a twinge of envy. He wishes that he, too, could lie down and drift off like that. Lay aside his cares and worries and simply dream until morning. Just rest. Bob squats down to eye-level with Janeway, balanced on the balls of his feet. He fancifully desires to touch her hair, to straighten her covers, to tuck her in properly. Such impossible thoughts warm him as he imagines they might be true. From what he's seen, he supposes that his new master is someone who needs to be looked after. Someone who needs to be shown kind, attentive care. In his mind and in his heart, Bob takes _Voyager_'s captain as his charge. Satisfied by his decision, he is about to wisp away...when he sees the clock.

"6:14...she said she had to be awake at six. She must have forgotten to set the alarm," he ponders softly to himself. He's torn between the pleasure of watching her peacefully sleep, and her need to be ready for work. Gently, he brushes his fingers through her cheek. "Kathryn...Kathryn..." She shivers, pulling away from him and yanking the covers over her head. Undeterred, Bob reaches through the blankets and gives her another chilly sweep. "Time to get up, Captain! You've overslept!"

She jumps awake, struggling a bit. "Computer, lights!" The lights come up, glaring unsympathetically at the captain. "Time?!"

"It is 0615 hours."

"Dammit," Janeway mutters, then turns around to face her ghost/alarm clock. After taking a moment for her thoughts to form properly, she runs a hand roughly through her hair. "Thank you."

"Your servant, my dear."

Too groggy and panicked to be annoyed with his odd speech, she leaps out of bed and orders a cup of coffee from the replicator. In the few seconds it takes to appear, Janeway dashes into the bathroom, zooms through her morning preening, and emerges once again. Bob watches her knock back her first cup of the day with a look of astonishment, equally amazed at the replicator's ability to produce things on command and his master's ability to rapidly consume them. With lightning speed, she dresses, not even bothering to hide from the ghost. It's entirely possible that in her haste she's forgotten that she's not alone in the room. Bob stands back, watching her as though she's in fast-forward, zipping between the bedroom and bathroom until finally she's put together.

Janeway tucks her shirt in, smooths her hair, and slips her feet into her boots. Then she realizes...slowly looks around, and sees her strange new ghost staring at her.

"Shift starts at 7?" he drawls in a bored-sounding tone, belied by the pert smirk on his face. When she nods speechlessly, he gestures to her timepiece which reads 0622. "At least this means you have time for breakfast. I do recommend something substantial. I know Harry would get so surly when he missed meals."

Not sure what to think of his mother-hen approach, she has to agree, mentally adding Bob to the list of the men in her life who seem committed to offering her lifestyle advice. "You, too, huh? All right, you've got a point. I think I even have enough replicator rations saved up for something decent."

She walks over, takes a moment to think about it, and orders a stack of challah French toast with strawberries. Again, Bob watches, entranced by her strange device and how little she thinks of it.

"Captain?" he ventures, recognizing that she's "on duty" now even if she's not on the bridge yet.

She looks up, her cheeks bulged out and syrup dripping from her lips. She swallows heavily and wipes her face. "Yes?"

"That _thing_ over there...what sorts of things does it make?"

Despite being ahead of schedule, she's inhaling her breakfast as quickly as she can, and Bob wonders how she can even taste it. "Lotsh of shings," she answers, swallowing another giant mouthful. "You name it, and it can probably make it."

"Incredible. Are you sure you're not a sorceress?" Such a possibility heightens his interest in his master. It would make him feel more at home, at least.

Janeway grins, "Pretty sure. It's science, not magic." And with one final push, she's cleaned her plate. She recycles her dishes and hovers uncomfortably. "What will you do all day?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll stay occupied."

"Is your book in a good place, or should I put it somewhere else?" She picks up the PADD and walks with it around the room, looking for a place that's closer to eye-level with her new friend. She props it up on a shelf by the viewport. "Here?"

"Perfect," he tells her. "Thank you." Realizing that his master still looks like she isn't sure what to do, he says, "Go on, now. I'll see you tonight."

After Janeway leaves for the day, Bob starts in on his book, grinning with anticipation. He finds the beginning rather draggy, dredging in unnecessary exposition disguised as foreshadowing and character development. He hopes this isn't one that his master really likes, because if so, she definitely has missed out on better ones! Making a mental note to request specific titles of his from home, he flips through pages at a time, skimming for the good parts. Deeming it adequate enough—perhaps it was one she got as a gift, or perhaps she simply chose a tame one to start out with because she didn't want to look too deviant—he walks around the room. Slowly, he gets an idea. He's heard her do it a few times now. Perhaps...

"Computer..."

_Beep!_

Janeway throws herself into her seat on the bridge, giving her command team a nod of greeting. She's already regretting having such a heavy breakfast when she isn't used to it. Her body rebels against solid nourishment after a nearly all-coffee diet.

Chakotay leans towards her. "Captain?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you all right?"

Pressing a hand over her mouth for a moment, she nods. "Fine. Just ate too fast this morning."

With his voice dripping with amused disbelief, Chakotay asks, "You _ate_ this morning?"

She doesn't answer him beyond rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Then, in a loud voice, "Report."

"Sensors are detecting signs of a prewarp civilization. Satellites, probes, small ships," Ensign Kim announces.

"Plot a course around, Mr. Paris. We don't want to frighten the locals."

Tom taps the buttons on the helm, muttering, "The secret is to bang the rocks together, guys."

"Seven and I found a cargo case with your name on it yesterday," Chakotay admits casually.

Janeway blinks. _Funny, Seven left that part out!_ "Yes, she brought it to me."

"And?"

Obviously miffed that the case was discovered by the two of them, and wondering what else they were doing at the time, she blocks his question. "And?" She mimics coyly.

The irritation is clear in her first officer's voice. "What was it?"

"A very belated gift...from Mark," she answers, laying emphasis on the giver's name. She watches him, looking for any signs of discomfort. He does look a bit irritated, which Janeway takes as a point in her favor. "Interesting thing, actually. An old human skull, and it's carved all over with these strange symbols. I like it," she announces decidedly. "Thanks so much for finding it. I'll have to send Mark a thank-you note the next chance I get."

The looks they exchange are rather chilly.

"So, why were you helping Seven clean out the cargo bay?" Janeway asks, giving him the chance to present their intentions as innocent.

"Well, four hands are better than two," he murmurs suggestively, letting her take that as she will. Janeway nods disapprovingly, then looks down in her lap. After a few uncomfortable moments drag on with them like this, Chakotay bites.

"It's nothing, Kathryn. It was a joke. And a crude one," he admits quietly. "We're not doing anything: you know that. She's just trying to be human."

Janeway looks up at him, hoping he's being honest. She nods...and figures she needs to retract her claws, too. "Really, thanks for finding it. It was nice of you to help Seven out with that." Then her stomach rumbles loudly. She squints her eyes shut, trying to will the unpleasant sensations away. "Ungh..." she groans. Suddenly all eyes are on her...and then it happens.

She retches, and a warm, wet splat heaves up and onto the thin gray carpet. She groans again and opens her eyes, seeing the pink and yellow tie-dye puddle near her feet.

There's a collective wrinkling of noses and disgusted sounds from all parties. Somehow, as though he knows that it falls to the low man on the totem pole, Ensign Kim jumps up.

"I'll get it." He runs down, sidestepping the mess, and goes out into the hall to the bathroom as Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris rush to the captain's side. She attempts valiantly to maintain her image of authority by unsuccessfully shooing them away. Ensign Kim comes back with a bucket and some rags and begins to clean up after his captain.

While the unpleasantness is cleared away, Chakotay snakes an arm around Kathryn's waist, and he and Tom half-lead, half-carry her to her ready room. She tries again to wave them off, asserting that she's all right, but they hear none of it. Chakotay practically pushes her down onto the couch while Tom replicates her a glass of water and a bucket. As Chakotay kneels next to her, placing his hand on her chest to prevent her from getting up, she keeps repeating that she's fine, growing more and more humiliated by the situation. When Tom returns with the water and bucket, Chakotay gets up and replicates her some ginger tea while Tom checks her forehead for a temperature-

"Get out, both of you, or I'll have you thrown in the brig! Out!"

Chakotay pauses for a moment to shoot her a look of abject concern as he deposits the tea on the coffee table, but obediently, both men scurry out.

Once they've resumed their positions, Chakotay taps his badge. "Chakotay to Sickbay."

"Doctor here."

"We need you on the bridge. Captain Janeway has fallen ill."

That's all the EMH needs to hear. He grabs a medkit and clips on his mobile emitter. "I'm on my way."

The Doctor wields his medical tricorder over the captain, doing his best to ignore the snarl on her face. "Now, Captain, it's nothing to get upset about. Just to be on the safe side, you know. The commander is right, though," he observes, nodding at the tea Chakotay has replicated. "Ginger does have beneficial properties as far as digestion goes. I'd finish that if I were you," he advises. "Why don't you take a personal day? Take it easy for once."

"Doctor, for the millionth time, it was indigestion. I'm fine," she growls.

Examining the tricorder's readouts, he allows, "It seems so. Well, glad it was a false alarm, hmm?"

"Doctor..." Janeway sounds positively dangerous now.

The EMH rolls his eyes, looking the very picture of the ill-used martyr. "If you have any other episodes, call me." And with that, he leaves.

Finally relieved of the clutches of her well-meaning crew, Janeway heads to her desk, using her prescribed "recovery time" to get some work done. She rubs her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Nothing exciting happens for the rest of the day, and soon she returns to her quarters. She stalks in, still with a black cloud over her head, and so is completely unprepared to be greeted by an exuberant ghost-

"Captain, you're home! Excellent! You would not believe the day I've had!" Bob stops, pulling himself up short when he sees her less-than-enthusiastic expression. "Oh dear."

"Oh dear is right," Janeway agrees with a shadow of a grin.

"Bad day?" He safely assumes. She nods wearily. "Care to air it out?"

With a sneaky smile, like a child trying to keep a secret, Janeway spills. "My first officer made a crude remark about him and a much younger crewman, I threw up in front of the entire bridge crew, I've had a headache all day but have been avoiding the doctor because of the 'I told you so' he'd probably deal out. And of course, I got lectured and coddled like a child for not taking care of myself. I'm just glad its over."

"Sounds ghastly," Bob replies, wrinkling his nose disdainfully, feeling genuine sympathy for his master. The indignities she's forced to endure!

Unable to disagree, Janeway nods. "Tell me about your day. Sounds like it was much better than mine."

It's as if he's been waiting for her permission—he resumes gushing! "Your computer-lady contraption can _hear_ me! It _responds!_ Look! Watch this! Computer, consult your records for playback...for...oooh, I wonder if my book is on here!" He looks like a kid at Christmastime, with his eyes wide and his hands clutched up to his face.

"The one on the PADD?"

"No, the one I wrote! Computer, search for a grimoire penned by Hrothbert of Bainbridge."

_beep!_

"There is one file by that author."

"It's here! She has it!" He points gleefully at the ceiling. "Computer? Could you read it to me?"

A second later, a deep male voice begins narrating his old spellbook. Bob listens, enraptured! He turns to his master and whispers excitedly, "Harry burned a rare copy of this! I thought it was gone forever! Another must have survived, been preserved!" Then, he addresses the ceiling, "Computer, skip ahead. Chapter 9."

Janeway watches and listens, trying not to laugh at the man's excitement. The words are completely incomprehensible, as it is read in original Old English with a good smattering of Norman and Latin throughout. After a little while, he orders it to stop, wheeling on Janeway once again as though he has unheard-of news for her.

"I found it can play music as well! Do you like Tchaikovsky, Captain?"

"Oh, yes, he's one of my favorites," she admits, glad they have similar tastes, despite growing rapidly exhausted by her new friend's excitement.

"Wonderful. Computer, play the _Sleeping Beauty Suite_, and...what the hell, dub in Mary Costa in the appropriate parts." The room then fills with music, and both parties relax and enjoy it. "I remember when this first came out. Any musician worth his salt would try to duplicate it. Playing it in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere. Anyone who could hold a violin or play a flute."

As Janeway takes a seat comfortably, now very glad it's the end of the day, she gazes up at Bob. "I wish you could sit down. It must be awful to have to stand all the time."

"Yes, it would be nice. Still, I'm used to it. It's not as if my legs get sore." He does look a bit jealous as he watches his master lounge cozily.

They listen in silence, just floating away with the music. Janeway even appreciates the vocal dub that Bob requested. As it reaches its conclusion, Bob sighs heavily, pacing again. He fidgets nervously with his hands and he looks like he has something on his mind.

"Kathryn?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you suppose the computer knows what happened to Harry?"

Janeway sits up, rubbing her forehead and stretching her legs out. "Might not be much, but we could check. She stands, leads Bob over to her computer at her desk and turns it on. "Computer, check database for records of..."

"Harry Copperfield Blackstone Dresden. Wizard. Early twenty-first century. Chicago, Illinois, North America...planet Earth."

They smile at each other when the computer tells them: "Searching..."

A minute later, a familiar picture is displayed. All it says is a birth date and a death date. Bob's suspicion is confirmed—he'd casually sent Bob to his skull one day and never made it home. Still, he wonders how he managed to end up here. He doesn't recall the passage of time in a clear way. Once he's in his skull, it all becomes muddled. He stares at the information on the monitor, awed by its simplicity. All it boils down to was a picture, the beginning, and the end. Harry was so much more than that. Bob realizes then that he was hoping to find more, something to give a proper memorial for the man he loved. He sighs. It's all futile anyway. Even if they discovered that Harry had risen through the magical ranks to supplant Ancient Mai herself and be the greatest wizard the world has ever known, he'd still be just as unreachable as he is now. Just as gone. Bob supposes that Harry would have appreciated the simplicity of it all. At least they have proof he existed.

"That's him?" Janeway asks, hoping to break the silence. Bob nods with a stifled sniffle.

"He looks nice," she comments.

"He is—he...was. He did his best, even if he couldn't manage to profit from it," Bob remarks with a touch of his old snark. He grins at his little joke since no one else is there to appreciate it.

Janeway looks between the screen and the ghost, feeling kind of awkward now. "I'm sorry nothing more came up."

"It doesn't matter. It wouldn't change anything, anyway," Bob observes, turning away from the sight of his old master. "Thank you for looking."

"I didn't mean to bring you down. You were having such a nice day."

"You didn't ruin it for me, milady. I'm glad to at least know this much."

"Well, I hate to be rude, but I have work to do. Need anything to keep you occupied? How did you like that book?"

Feeling it would be unjust to criticize her gift, Bob fibs, "Enjoyable enough. Different. I browsed through the library and found a few others. I hope you don't mind. The computer lady even told me how to get rid of the first one and put a new one on the PADD."

Smirking a little at how quickly her ancient friend has learned to use the computer, Janeway tells him, "I don't mind." Then she settles in at her desk to read through a stack of reports.


	3. Chapter 3

Janeway spends the evening reading reports, as usual. The only indication that this is not a typical evening for her is the occasional delighted exclamation or dark snigger from Bob.

"Kathryn, you must read this one next. It will do you worlds of good," he informs her. He already feels close to the woman, quite keen to treat her as a friend.

Without looking up from her work, Janeway responds, "Perhaps later." As she reads through the pile, her thoughts and gaze drift toward her guest. The beginnings of a smile touch her lips as she considers him. _He means well enough, and is certainly easy to please. Not hard on the eyes, either,_ she allows naughtily. _What is it about a silver-haired man that's so appealing?_ Janeway wonders absently, thinking back over her personal track record. Mark and Jaffen were both the same way. This thought makes Janeway scowl a bit, feeling suddenly lonely. She throws another PADD into the "done" pile and starts on another, taking the opportunity to examine her new friend again. She listens, blushing, as Bob murmurs over his book. Janeway slowly runs a hand up and down her leg as she listens in to the hushed narrative, read with such relish that it even makes Bob draw slow, delighted gasps of pleasure.

She abandons her work altogether and stares over at the ghost with a guilty smile, thoroughly enjoying the sound of his voice as he purrs sultrily over his book.

Bob suddenly stops, looks over at his master who is by now hanging on his every word. He straightens up sharply, eyes wide with alarm. He doesn't realize he was just speaking out loud. Still, her expression...she certainly doesn't look like she disapproves. Gaining back some of his composure, he nods over at her before turning back to his PADD to read in silence again.

As the seconds draw out and it's clear that he's not going to continue, Janeway casts Bob quite a scandalized look. She's more bothered that he stopped reading than that he was reading out loud to begin with!

"Now that's hardly fair, Bob," she complains, dropping her gaze back to her work, disappointed that the night's entertainment has effectively closed for the night.

"Business before pleasure, Captain," he tells her. Their easy tones remind Bob suddenly of Harry, and he winces at the memory. He's just spoken to his new master the same way he would have spoken to his previous one. The void that the wizard left will never be filled. Bob looks back over at Janeway, hoping she hasn't taken his chiding the wrong way. She seems to be absorbed once more in her work.

Janeway tosses another PADD into the growing "done" pile and hears her ghost heave a sigh. She looks up to find him gazing at her. She feels a twinge of pity when she sees his sorrowful expression. He looks so homesick and lost. Feelings she's all too familiar with. Giving up on work for the night, Janeway stands up and scoops the skull off of the end table. After taking a moment to examine its facial features as well as the strange markings, she holds it close to her body, stroking it.

Bob lets out a pleasurable moan, tilting his head back with closed eyes. With the slow movements of one in a dream, he brings his hands up to touch his face, sighing in relief. "Kathryn...oh, Kathryn, hold me. Don't...don't stop. That's so nice." His voice quavers with the threat of tears. "You're so kind to me," he breathes.

Now looking rather tearful herself, Janeway holds it tighter, patting it gently, not taking her eyes off of the ghost connected to it. His pronouncement of her kindness reminds her of how little she's actually done for him. How little he expects and hopes for. So far, all she's done is allowed him to be in her company. The pleasure he's voiced at the idea of being her friend is very telling. _How lonely it must be for him. _

Bob opens his eyes and stares back. He steps toward her, looking her up and down with an urgent look in his eyes. He brings a hand up near her face, leans down to her as though he's going to kiss her. He stops about an inch from her lips with a look of sad realization. "Oh, I wish..." he sighs as he passes his fingers right through her cheek, making his master shiver and twitch away. He glares at his fingers, then looks sadly back at her again. "I'm so sorry."

Janeway nods, sniffling sympathetically, not sure whether he's apologizing for trying to kiss her or being unable to. Mimicking him, she brings her hand near his face as well. He smiles at her as though he can feel it. Then, realizing how quickly feelings between them are developing, and not altogether comfortable with the implications, she pulls away and heads back to her desk.

"Kathryn?" Bob calls. "Kathryn, I...I forgot my place again. Forgive me."

She never imagined that ghosts could blush, yet here he stands, looking very pink with a mix of desire and embarrassment. "It's all right," she consoles him, feeling embarrassed as well.

"You're blushing," Bob points out.

"Well, so are you."

Strangely, this brings a genuine smile to his face. "You are a very sweet girl." Before she can object, he continues, "Charming, kind, graceful..." Bob deliberately avoids mentioning her appearance, since it seemed to bother her so the night before.

Janeway scoffs at his praise, rolling her eyes with a wave of her hand. "Flattery will get you nowhere." The 'girl' remark wasn't as offensive to her as it might have been, considering the man who referred to her as such is over a thousand years old. Still, it's been a long time since she felt youthful enough to bear such a description. She smiles, patting the skull again before setting it on her desk. Then, she remembers-

"Can you reach your book from here? Or should I put you back?"

No longer in the mood to indulge in fantasies, in book form or otherwise, Bob purses his lips and shakes his head. "No, that's fine. I was thinking of turning in, anyway. Thank you." And he mists away, streaming into his skull.

Curious, Janeway peers into the eye sockets and jumps back with a short shriek when they light up. Dark laughter echoes inside the skull and it grows dark again. "You...!" she hisses irritably.

Inside, Bob feels perfectly happy again. His master's familiar annoyance is making him feel right at home. Instead of dragging him into melancholy, it gives him a cozy sense of continuity. He silently thanks his lucky stars that he got such a lenient master again. It would have been difficult to transition from Harry Dresden to one of his more usual type of wizard masters.

Weeks pass, and day by day Captain Janeway's and Bob's friendship grows. It's become quite obvious that Bob is rather attracted to his new master, but nothing more of it is said after the first few days. The truth is, he is still mourning the loss of his previous master. It's in moments when thoughts of Harry consume the ghost that he often excuses himself and retreats to his skull. Such despondency dampens any romantic fervor he may feel toward _Voyager_'s captain.

After a month of this, Janeway catches him having one of these moments and breaks the evening's silence.

"It might help if you wrote him a letter." The suggestion comes out of the blue: they haven't even mentioned his previous master's name all day. Naturally, it strikes Bob as odd.

"Write whom a letter?"

"Harry, your wizard." She rests her chin in her hand and gazes at her ghost friend. "I can tell you're thinking of him. Missing him." Now Janeway quietly wonders if it was even her place to suggest such a thing. Bravely, she presses on, social mores be damned.

"After..." she gulps, knowing that he saw, peering into her head on their first night together, what she's about to describe. "After the accident on Tau Ceti Prime...when my father and fiance were killed..." Janeway goes pale, venturing back to that awful day, her futile attempt to save them, her inability to choose, "I saw a therapist. She suggested after a while that it might help if I wrote to them. Tell them I miss them, that I'm sorry I couldn't save them, think of what they might say if they could write back." A stray tear slides down her cheek and she hastily brushes it away, steeling herself against the pain. Bob was right, though: some wounds never heal.

"It helped, it really did. I knew they would forgive me, that they knew I had done my best. That it wasn't my fault-" she croaks, her throat suddenly too tight and dry for her to continue.

Bob draws near, hovering over her. "Would you like me to...?" he holds out his hand but she declines, waving it away. "Just let me know if you change your mind. Promise?"

Janeway nods, forcing a laugh at how strange the situation is. Here she sits, offering grief counseling to a ghost, and he's trying to comfort _her_. "Thank you, though," she whispers, grateful for the offer. "Anyway, do you think you'd like to try? Just...treat it like you've gone on a trip, maybe. That you're writing home. I used to do that in my personal logs sometimes. I'd write to my mother, my sister...the man who gave you to me. That would help them feel not so far away."

Now reassured that his master will be all right, he gives her a fond smile and sees the sense in her suggestion. He thinks for a moment what he would say. What he would write if he knew Harry would actually read it. In glimmering golden light, he writes in the air-

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm writing to let you know I've arrived safely. The accommodations as well as the company are quite pleasant, although it's very hard, as you know, to be so far from home. I've been very homesick, and it's been dreadful at times._

_I'm on board a spaceship, it's all very strange but with some nice surprises. They have a lady computer that can make anything you can think of; she even has my old grimoire on file, so your uncle's copy that you burned mustn't have been the last one. Therefore, I would like to take this opportunity to say "Ha ha. I win." _

_I have a new master now; her name is Kathryn. She's a little older than you, very kind, and very pretty. She won't like that I told you that, but it's the truth._

Bob looks over at his master to gauge her reaction. She's positively in awe of the beauty of it all, and can't seem to take her eyes off of it, although when she catches him looking over at her, she looks slightly embarrassed to be caught viewing something so personal. It looks like she's trying to admire it without actually reading, but she seems to view his gaze as a kind of permission to share, and she reads the last line with a light scoff and reddening cheeks. She doesn't seem angry, though. Bob smiles at her lack of outrage and continues-

_We're getting along well, and have been from the start. I've only ever been owned by wizards, so it's a big adjustment not to have any magic afoot. Still, I want to do what I can for her. She's done so much for me already. I care for her very much and want to help her. I think we need each other._

_I miss you so much. I keep expecting to see you or hear your voice. Whenever I come out of my skull, I half expect to find myself back at home. You are the best friend I've ever had and I'll never forget you._

_Love always,_

_Hrothbert of Bainbridge, "Bob"_

He stands back for a moment and admires his work. "You were right, Kathryn, I do feel better. It's better than speaking aloud, expecting him to answer, like a crazy person. I think he would be glad that I'm doing as well as I am. That I have such a nice new master."

As always, Bob's praise does little more than embarrass his owner. Janeway ducks her head down, looking pointlessly for an imaginary object on the floor. "I haven't done-"

"You've done a lot. You've been my friend, and I certainly needed one. And you've let me be yours."

His sweet, simple words coax a smile out of the captain. "I'm sorry that you're so far from home, but at the same time, I'm glad you're here. It's good to have a friend."

The way she says this strikes Bob as a little off. "You don't have any friends on your ship?"

Janeway swallows hard, looking a bit sad again. "I used to. I'm not so sure anymore."

Remembering Harry's difficult friendship with Murphy back home, Bob nods in understanding. "Complicated?"

"You could say that. Do...do you know how to fix it after things go seriously wrong with someone? Is there a way to...," Janeway stops herself before she reveals too much of her troubles. Not that she doesn't think Bob will care, but she just doesn't want to burden him with any more problems than he's already dealing with.

"Sometimes," he answers simply, "if things have gone badly, my first piece of advice would be to step back until the dust clears. It's impossible to reforge a broken friendship amid emotional gunfire."

Janeway nods at Bob's wisdom, wondering if ample time has passed. "Then what?"

"Then you proceed carefully. You start small, let them know you want to be friends again, find out what it will take for that to happen. Clear up whatever hurts have been dealt on either side. I can't imagine anyone staying mad at you for very long."

"You don't know what I've done," she answers darkly.

"Well, you don't know what _I've_ done." This makes Janeway look up with her eyebrows drawn together in a question. "What I did that got me cursed. This certainly isn't a reward for anything."

"What did you do?" Now she's worried. What sort of person had she befriended, taken to her home and heart? Consoled and received consolation from in return?

Bob drums his fingers together as he prepares his confession. His eyes drift closed and he begins pacing. "When I was alive, I was quite a powerful sorcerer. I knew it, too, and made no secret of it. I was brash and full of ideas. I planned to rule wizard-kind, I even gained a few followers. There was one individual in particular, though, who wasn't so keen on my goals. A sorceress, Winifred. I'd known her since childhood, and I loved her dearly. She told me one day that I was beginning to frighten her. She didn't like my plans for domination. It was twisting me, changing me into someone else. She kept telling me she missed me, tried luring me back to simpler aspirations. And I came to her. My whole notion of revolution crashed down all around me anyway, it wasn't very well executed and we were all lucky to escape serious punishment.

"I vowed to turn over a new leaf. I rejoined the side of good. I put those other dangerous ideas aside, and tried to content myself with simply being a rather brilliant sorcerer. To settle down, marry, have a family." He cracks a self-indulging grin at this. It soon vanishes into a scowl. "If only it could have been that easy. My attempt to seize power had predictably earned me my fair share of enemies. One especially knew how to hurt me, how to bait me into a fight. He followed Winifred home from market one night...she was cutting through the woods to gather wild herbs...and he shot her through the heart. I heard her scream and was at her side in an instant."

Janeway draws her hand away from her mouth to ask, "Did you fight him?"

With a humorless chuckle, Bob repeats, shaking his head,"If only it had been that easy." With a fierce, ugly expression, he grimly recounts, "I tore his heart out. Dragged Winifred back home. I summoned the Darkest powers imaginable in a vain attempt to bring her back. It wasn't enough, it didn't work. I took more lives, bottled their life force, channeled it..and at last I was successful. She lived and breathed again. But when she opened her eyes...when she looked at me, it was as though she beheld a demon. She ran, calling upon the White Council. I chased after her, begging her to come back. One word and my doom was placed upon me: necromancer."

Bob stops, now crying, looking frightened and ashamed of himself, as though watching it happen to someone else. "My sweet, precious Winifred gave evidence against me. I was locked up, awaiting my fate, nursing my bitter anger and resentment. All I could think was that it had all been for her. How ungrateful she was, that this is how she repaid my gift of life. It was only recently that I realized how wrong I was in that. It hadn't been for her," he asserts, shaking his head decidedly.

His face now is full of frustrated disappointment, like a parent ashamed of his child's poor choices. "Like all Black magic, it was driven and wielded by selfishness. I didn't do it for her; I did it for me. I dragged the peaceful dead back from her rest, kicking and screaming, into mortal life. Back to this world of pain and suffering. All because I could not bear to be parted from her. She died again a week later from her infected wounds.

"As a fitting punishment, for not letting the dead rest, I was doomed to live forever as a ghost. Bound to my own skull, made to serve and obey whoever owned it. Unable to affect the world...a mere shadow, a trick of light. And I was given a job. I would be permanent loremaster for the High Council. I would instruct, advise, and be a fount of knowledge for them.

"Well, it was a pretty predictable existence. Most of the wizards I got passed to were already corrupted by greed or desire for power. Of course, when they would publicly show their true colors, I was blamed for it, made out to have turned them. I couldn't help that they asked me the things they did. I was bound to obey, and I did know my share of Black magic. Still, it kept up my reputation and position as the Council's whipping-boy. In the late twentieth century I met Harry Dresden, my master's nephew. From the time he was eleven years old, I was Harry's teacher, and his friend. He was the one who brought me back. Truly brought me back from what I'd become. I owe him everything." Tired by his long confession, he looks over at his master, dreading to see her fear and disgust.

"As you can see, I'm far from perfect. If you choose to defenestrate my skull into space, I certainly wouldn't blame you. Maybe in a million years or so of drifting, I would be collected by someone else, and start again."

Janeway stands, walking up to him with an unreadable expression. "I'm not going to toss you into space." His story is grisly and terrible, and casts her new friend in a much more frightening light than she was prepared for. And yet...he seems genuinely sorry for what he had done; he looks remorseful, ashamed. If he has truly rehabilitated, if he has really managed to turn over that new leaf he promised all those centuries ago, she knows she should have nothing to fear from him. All that's left of that dangerous and feared necromancer is this broken, weeping, lonely old man. Even after hearing his whole history, dreadful as it is, she strokes the top of his skull. This brings a smile to the old ghost's face. He gives her a hopeful look.

"Are we still friends?"

She thinks back to her own life; her own recent history isn't exactly gleaming. She, too, has fallen away from the straight and narrow path, fallen into darkness. Janeway looks back at Bob, who is waiting for her answer. She nods with a wan smile.

The relief on Bob's face looks almost painful. He reaches his hands toward her and then pulls them back sharply. Even after all these years, it's hard to resist his old impulses from his living days. "Oh! My dear, my dear Kathryn. I'm so glad to be yours." His words of gratitude tumble out inelegantly and honestly. He never told anyone that what he hates most about his curse is not his permanent ghost-state, or living under the command of another: it's the shame of having to tell of his transgression, to relive it and be constantly judged anew for it. It's like a felony charge that he has to keep declaring in a resume, he can't escape it no matter how much time has passed.

"I'm glad you're mine, too."


	4. Chapter 4

Kathryn idly thinks how strangely perfect they seem to be for each other. In spite of their own self-loathing, neither one of them sees the other as a monster, as someone beyond saving. They are both able to see each other as someone inherently good and beautiful. All each of them needs is a fair chance. She thinks of when he tried to kiss her; he obviously wanted to, badly. She wonders if she would have pulled away, or if she would have allowed it, if it were even possible. She wonders how many other times he was struck with the same urge, but tempered it for the sake of good behavior. Settling back down to work, she can't stop the soft fluttering feeling she gets from thinking about him. He's been such a good friend, and it seems as though he would like to be more.

_He's certainly a charmer, I'll give him that_. Janeway looks up at him and smiles; he smiles back as though he knows what she's thinking, before returning to his skull. She quickly looks down again, feeling herself blushing, completely dazzled by his smile. She bites her lip, tapping a PADD against her chin thoughtfully...then throws it down and stands up again, feeling cooped up and restless. The need to get out and do something other than work is irresistible tonight.

"I just realized that I haven't shown you the holodeck yet. You'll love it, if you liked the rest of what the computer can do." She looks around, finding the ghost has disappeared. Then, packing Bob's skull in a largish green shoulder-bag, she heads on down. She checks the schedule and sees that Holodeck One is free.

Once the doors close, Bob senses that it's safe to come out. Janeway doesn't even explain, she simply chooses to demonstrate what this wonderful room can do. After flicking through a few possible settings, she lands on one that makes Bob look around, amazed! He tears his eyes from the sunny green hills and pale violet valleys, back to his precious master.

"This one!" He cries, feeling a soft breeze ruffle through his hair. "Please, leave it here. It's home!"

"Really?"

Bob wanders downhill, looking everywhere. "The village is gone, but I'd know this place anywhere."

Janeway follows close behind, knowing he can't wander off too far while she has his skull in her purse. "The computer has a number of locations stored, most of them taken from actual places on Earth and other Alpha Quadrant...nearby planets. Is this really where you're from?"

Bob brightens with a curiously hopeful expression when he sees an ancient-looking tree. He seems almost afraid to approach. When he comes up to it, he lets out a shaky gasp. A barely-visible H+W is carved into the bark. "Incredible," Bob breathes as he whips around, so touched that he's been rendered speechless. "Oh, thank you. I hope I have you for a long time, Kathryn. You've been wonderful. I've never had a master like you."

As usual, his glowing praise only serves to embarrass her. Janeway is certain that she hasn't done anything special for him, at least nothing worthy of being canonized by the ghost. One thing she doesn't understand is how the hologram of this tree still bears the inscription carved into it over a thousand years ago. Then, she figures that it must have been done by magic rather than ordinary means, making it last for all time. As she reaches the bottom of the hill to stand next to Bob, her shoe slips on a patch of dewy grass and her feet slide out from under her!

In spite of nearly a millennium and a half of being a ghost, Bob's hands fly out to catch her. He knows the gesture will be useless at best and is ready to apologize, when something unexpected happens-

Janeway feels a strong pair of hands grasp her around her ribcage, helping her keep her footing. She looks down with confusion at the hands supporting her. Slowly, she looks up and sees Bob steadying her! His face mirrors her utter astonishment and they just stare at each other, eyes flicking back and forth from each other's faces to Bob's hands.

Janeway, not daring to slip out of his grasp, brings a hand up and touches his face, running her fingers over his hair. She is pleased that it's as soft as it looks. She lets her fingers drift back down, brushing his cheek with a wondering expression of pleasure on her face. For a moment, she puts herself in his shoes, thoroughly enjoying this simple contact.

"How?" Bob gasps, releasing her from his grasp and holding a hand over hers. "Kathryn..." he sighs huskily, drawing her close. "How is this possible?"

He presses her hand to his cheek. He kisses her palm, her wrist, then their eyes meet again...Bob battles with his wills for a moment, then haltingly cups his hands around his master's face.

Kathryn's heart pounds as the rest of her body goes numb. She stares into the ghost's face, reading his amazement, seeing her reflection in his tear-filled eyes. _Don't! Oh, please do! Run! Don't you dare. Send him to his skull. For what? _Her inner argument is silenced when he draws her face to his and he kisses her. Her numbness vanishes and is replaced by pleasurable tingles. She reaches her arms up around Bob's neck and kisses back.

The next thing she knows, Bob is holding her tightly, nuzzling between her neck and shoulder, instinctively drawn to her favorite sensitive spot. They tumble down onto the grass; they kiss and cuddle as their senses go wild!

After a few minutes pass, Kathryn struggles. Bob is still clinging hard to her, brushing his face against every inch of her, making up for long years of deprivation.

"Stay...please stay, darling. Don't be frightened, please," he begs. "I won't hurt you. Oh...Kathryn, how are we doing this?!"

They shift together, rolling over onto their sides, Janeway suddenly feels just as urgent as Bob does. "Oh, it's been so long. I'm not going anywhere," she promises huskily. Together, they laugh like a pair of crazy people, crying at the same time. They're both just so wholly enraptured to be entangled together on this sunny hillside. Between soft, lingering kisses, Kathryn tries to come up with an explanation for why they can touch here.

"Mmm...I think...I think...Mmmm! That's...that's not fair!" She giggles vixenishly. "I can't...think and kiss at the...same time!" For the next few minutes, she gives up one task in favor of the other, which doesn't trouble Bob in the least. With a low, sinister-sounding laugh of his own, he pulls her close, binding their bodies together, tangling their legs together delightfully as he covers her mouth, face, and neck in wet, dominating kisses. She writhes beneath him, enjoying every second, fulfilling her wildest 'bad boy' fantasies. For too long, has she been the one in control, letting someone else take the upper hand for once is liberating.

Half an hour later, they're both sitting up against the tree. Bob looks confused and mortified.

"That's never happened before."

Cuddling up to him with an understanding look, Kathryn soothes, "We should have expected it. It's not your fault: you're a ghost. I guess I just...forgot that."

"That makes two of us," he replies, still unable to look at her. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she shakes her head decidedly. "Just...cold."

They both give a weak chuckle. Kathryn leans in and kisses his cheek, nuzzling cozily into his neck. "I guess there are some limits of what this place will let me do," Bob observes regretfully. "Oh, I wanted to _please_ you," he purrs, finally turning towards her, tracing her bottom lip. "I love you."

With a shy smile, Janeway chooses not to say anything. She snuggles in as he wraps his arms around her with a shared happy sigh. "You're sweet," she tells him honestly. "I talked to the man who gave you to me a few days ago, I hadn't spoken to him in years."

"Why?"

"Well, before I left on this mission, we were engaged to be married. Then, after the ship was declared lost, everyone on board assumed dead, he..." she trails off with a curious expression. She expected it to bring a painful twinge to think about. It's now that she realizes, she's finally over him. Not just moved on, but that she simply doesn't love him anymore. "He met someone else, married her. They have a family and a life...and my dog."

Bob makes a face, "I'm sorry." The mention of her dog appears to be the last straw.

Janeway shakes her head, looking unconcerned. For the first time in several years, it doesn't make her sad or angry to think about Mark. She's glad he got on with life and didn't stay stuck in the past. "Anyway, I thanked him for the gift," she picks up the skull and pats it for emphasis. "I didn't tell him how special it is, just that I really like it and I'm giving it a good home."

"And indeed you are."

Their eyes meet again with identical smoldering looks. Kathryn puts the skull down and puts her arms around Bob's neck, easing back so she's reclining against the tree, she draws Bob down on top of her. After a few minutes of relatively silent kissing, Bob comes up for air.

"Wizards invented kissing, you know," he informs her bluntly.

"Mmm? You know what? I'm inclined to believe you."

"Oh, yes. I'm actually surprised it caught on so well with...people like you. Proves we're more alike than we are different. One thing...we discovered...is that it also doubles as an excellent magical conduit. You see?"

Kathryn giggles softly, running her hands through her lover's hair. "No, I don't think I do."

"Well...say you're a sorceress, and you have a complicated bit of magic you need to do...and it calls for just a bit more oomph than you have. If I were alive and charged up...all you'd have to do is..." and he demonstrates 'all she would have to do.' He looks down at her fondly, tracing her flushed cheeks with a pale finger, cupping her face in his hand before nuzzling in for another "demonstration".

"Well, if that were the case, I'd have all the oomph I would need," she remarks with a smile and a soft, contented sigh. "Would you share magic with just anyone, though?"

At this suggestion, Bob recoils with kneejerk disgust. "Oh, no!" He wrinkles his nose and nearly gags at the thought. "To have a total stranger's magic flow into you? Ugh... Would you go around kissing anyone you saw?"

"No."

"It's the same for us. It still means the same thing for us; but where ordinary people like you _could_ kiss a stranger just for the fun of it, we'd get...what Harry would call a double-whammy of...ewww." Bob shudders as he ponders it. Both the act of kissing someone he felt nothing for, and receiving a dose of a stranger or even enemy's magic, makes his proverbial blood curdle. "In addition to of course being a sign of utmost affection and closeness, it's a sign of trust. A show of good will and good faith."

"All right. What about regular people?"

Bob pouts suggestively. "You wouldn't rather research the topic yourself? You'll find I'm an excellent lab partner," he purrs into her ear.

Playfully shoving him away, Kathryn sits back up. "Well, you're the one who's been around forever. A self-proclaimed fount of knowledge, no less. And don't tell me you haven't done your share of 'research'." She kisses his nose with a smirk.

Bob lies in the grass, stroking Kathryn's leg, enjoying every detail of sensation. The prickliness of the grass, the warmth of the sun..."Well, you know I've been dead for quite some time, but if memory serves, ordinary humans are still able to sense magic even if they can't use it. Enough poets and song-writers have likened kissing to magic, so it can't just be limited to a select handful. You can't wield it, unfortunately, but you still get to enjoy the 'boost'. You see?"

Now she shifts, stretching out on top of him, her hands still drawn into his hair. She presses her cheek to his chest, feeling his arms loosely drape around her shoulders and down her back. Both of them sigh cozily. "Well," she murmurs, "thanks for the boost. I certainly needed it."

"You're welcome," Bob answers with a hint of a laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

Noting the late hour, Kathryn snaps out of her happy haze, and she gets to her feet again, giving Bob a hand up as well.

"That was wonderful, Kathryn. Thank you so much," he purrs, looking like he can't touch her enough. "So, you never did tell me your brilliant idea of why we can do this here."

"My guess is that the computer recognizes you as a being of energy and light, and casts a force field around you while we're on the holodeck."

Bob smiles broadly, showing all of his teeth, smoothly hiding the fact that he didn't entirely follow her description. "Yes, of course. That must be it. Well done. However it was accomplished, thank you so much for this. I don't think you know what this means to me. You're sweet, really. I love you."

Janeway laughs and looks away, utterly dazzled by his smile. _He's so beautiful,_ she thinks indulgently. A little thought nags at her, though. As good a time as they're having, enjoying each other, she's feeling increasingly awkward as he slathers her in words of love, words she can't quite bring herself to echo. She's grown quite fond of the ghost, of course, and truly enjoys his company as well as the view, but she doesn't think she'd call what she feels for him 'love.' _What's the matter with me?_ She wonders, looking back up at him a little sadly. _Bob is sweet, attractive, loving...and he knows a thing or two about pleasing a lady. He's practically everything someone could ask for. What's missing?_

Frowning a little at his companion's pensive expression, Bob tilts Kathryn's chin up, tracing her cheek with a warm gaze. Something about his master's face worries him, as if he can guess her reluctant thoughts. Still, he brushes it off as paranoia. If she had something important to say, she would come out and say it...wouldn't she?

With Bob's hand in hers, Kathryn savors their touch for as long as they can as they walk toward the exit. As soon as they reach the doors, Bob gives her one last tight hug and mists away, floating on a sigh.

Janeway returns home to her quarters, feeling very tired but in good enough spirits. After all, she's just had quite an enjoyably satisfying evening. As she's turning down the covers, Bob's skull lights up and speaks:

"Kathryn? Hold me?"

She climbs into bed, hesitating. Then, she casts aside her worries for now and takes the cursed thing into her arms. She curls up around it, a gesture that reminds Bob of his previous master.

_Oh, Harry..._ he thinks, suddenly feeling guilty for getting this close to his new owner so soon. _ I haven't forgotten you, you know. I do still miss you. _He then resolves to grit his teeth and bear his newest wave of homesickness. It's not fair that it should invade him now, when he was just so happy and peaceful with Kathryn. Kathryn...he's been calling her that more than anything else lately, only referring to her by rank when she was fully immersed in her work. It might not show all the time, but Bob does know how to behave professionally when he must.

Before drifting off to sleep, Janeway can't help but recall an earlier conversation she had with Bob. One regarding salvaging a broken friendship. She certainly hasn't acted on his advice yet, sensible as it may be. Aside from the charming distraction Bob has been to her, Kathryn knows that the one other thing keeping her from approaching Chakotay with an olive branch is her fear...fear that he will reject it and her, that he no longer cares. She's been pretty cool toward him since he babied her that day she was sick on the bridge. They can barely meet each other's eyes. They speak to each other on duty, and force some small talk here and there to keep up appearances for the crew's sake, but she cannot deny their relationship, once so satisfying, trusting, and fruitful, had over the years withered like autumn leaves. Kathryn lies silently awake, now fully aware of how much she misses her friend. She used to count on him; he was her right hand. She wonders if he misses her the same way, if he would be ready to forgive her for her unhealthy obsessive behavior and her stubborn conviction that she has to do it alone.

Thoughts of the times he's betrayed her trust float forward in her mind, the times he's gone against orders, questioned her...those have hurt her. If she wants him to forgive her, she owes him nothing less. She knows they fight the hardest when she needs him the most, when she lets herself become unhinged. _Why did I keep pushing him away? No wonder he's seeking greener pastures, _she thinks with a curled lip, envisioning Chakotay and Seven of Nine. _It just _had_ to be Seven. The one I took in against his wishes, my rebellious adopted daughter. _

Kathryn tries to fight back against the tears threatening to spill, remembering those defining moments of her relationship with the young Borg woman. The times they butted heads: her insolent insubordination...she remembers vividly walking into the brig with her, despite the newly-disconnected Borg's vow that she would kill the captain if she did so. How Seven ended up in her arms moments later, collapsing to the floor in frustration and despair. Their rocky but rewarding relationship that followed, the loyalty to each other they'd eventually forged, that trust...she remembers Seven giving herself back to the Collective to ensure _Voyager's_ safety. All that they had gone through together. It makes this blow all the more unbearable. _"She's just trying to be human,"_ Chakotay had promised. It almost sounded as though he wasn't the one pursuing her, that he was the reluctant object in the "relationship."

Janeway rolls over, now wondering what exactly those two are up to. Seven can't possibly understand what she is doing to her captain, to her command team. Her actions, performed by anyone else, would smack of the deft hand of a master manipulator. The young woman, however, in her innocence, has no idea. Subtle aspects of human interaction continue to elude her. She chose Chakotay as her mark most likely because he never expressed an interest in her, and thought that he therefore presented an interesting challenge. If she chose to pursue Ensign Kim, who had been smitten with her from day one, it might make more sense but it would probably strike Seven as too easy. One thing Seven of Nine never did was do things the easy way, at least in her social exercises. From what she's seen and what she heard from the Doctor, those have always been an uphill battle.

The next morning, Kathryn rises early. Despite her troubled thoughts during the night, she feels she slept well and is strangely at peace with her life. As if all she needed was to air out those thoughts she always keeps under lock and key. The scientist in her wisely tells her that problems benefit from being examined and assessed. Things aren't as bad as they seem. She even chances feeling hopeful.

Sensing his master is awake and about, Bob wafts out of his skull. "Good morning, Captain. Did you sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm," she replies, already having her first cup of coffee for the day. In a few seconds, the caffeine hits her brain and she opens her eyes wider, giving her ghost a smile and nod. She's feeling ready to face the world.

When she reaches the bridge, however, she finds Chakotay's seat is empty. She flips up the small monitor between their seats and checks today's duty roster. Sure enough, he's scheduled to have today off unless there's an emergency. _There goes the plan to mend bridges with him today. I'm certainly not going to seek him out and bother him on his day off._

She spends a good part of the day with Tuvok and Neelix, conducting trade agreements with another passing ship. They're a strange species of humanoids who deem direct eye-contact distrustful and invasive. Because of this, their uniforms include large headpieces with screens over their faces. After exchanging food, fuel, and music files, they agree to take a tour of _Voyager._ Captain Janeway always enjoys this part of her job: meeting and learning about different cultures. Finding similarities among the differences. This sort of thing never gets old. Their visitors seem intrigued by these Federation people, the story of their long journey, their sense of community and family that had comes from their situation.

As the aliens return to the transporter room to beam back to their ship with their goods, their representative says, "May the stars and your hearts guide you to good fortune."

It's been a fairly good day, Janeway admits, if a bit dull. Secretly, she wishes their visitors would open fire on them after leaving, just to give them some excitement. _Can't have everything, _she supposes with a shrug. Then she berates herself for thinking this. She should be glad to have had such successful trade. It's been slim pickings for several weeks now. When they're under constant attack, they long for some peace and quiet, and while in calm space they yearn for some action.

After another hour or so, she decides to head down to Sickbay. Surely the Doctor will have some good shipboard gossip for her.

The Doctor waves his tricorder over her as he cheerily chirps away. Janeway can barely contain her impatience, although she reminds herself that she should have known that news comes with a price tag. "I'm working on adding some new jokes to my program. Tell me what you think of this: a neutron walks into a bar and gets a drink. The bartender tells him, 'For you, no charge!'"

He grins hopefully at his captive audience, the only sound the tinkling of his scanning device. Disappointed at the chilly reception, he shrugs it off. "Your vital signs are...quite good, actually."

"Don't sound so shocked, Doctor," she sighs. "So, is there anything going on around the ship I should know about?"

"Only that Lieutenant Paris is trying to arrange a gathering at Sandrine's tonight. He figured word would spread, I'm just helping it along. Seven of Nine seems to be running an ongoing experiment of her own. All she tells me is she hasn't made the progress she anticipated. I just tell her to keep at it, whatever 'it' turns out to be. I'm sure it will all come together in its proper time."

"She hasn't told me about any personal projects," Janeway remarks.

"She hasn't told anybody, it seems. Maybe she wants to keep it a surprise."

That evening, Captain Janeway enters the holodeck, her loose-fitting white linen slacks and a sleeveless floral top hanging gracefully off her curves. A largish green purse at her hip bulges oddly in the middle. There's a good group at Sandrine's and it has all the feelings of a party. Music is playing, pool balls are clacking, and everyone seems to be having a good time.

Peering around to make sure no one is looking her way, Janeway pats her bag and murmurs, "You can come out now, Bob." A pillar of smoke and flame billows out of her purse and lands. In his brief glimpse in spirit form, Bob surveys the room and chooses his appearance appropriately. He abandons his usual black three-piece suit in favor of khakis and a lavender dress shirt.

When Janeway sees his outfit, she smiles admiringly at him. From across the room, Tom watches their interaction. It's been a while since he's seen his captain look so beautifully smitten. He knows all too well of his captain's fondness for holodeck characters. He has to admit to himself that she knows how to pick them. The view pleases him and he steps out from his corner to welcome her to the party.

"Captain. If I may say so, you look lovely this evening." Tom gestures up and down her outfit significantly. "Don't think that that's going to make me go easy on you when we have a round of pool, though."

Janeway scoffs, giving him a friendly swat. "Just for that, don't expect _me_ to go easy on _you._" She gives him a grin that is somehow both reassuring and menacing.

"I'll consider myself warned," Tom laughs. And with that, he wanders off to mix and mingle with more people.

She sees Chakotay by the bar and Seven of Nine approaching him. She turns her gaze back to her ghost and he can read her expression like a book.

"Ah, that's the one who got away, is he?" he murmurs softly so as not to be overheard. He then looks over at the young woman next to the commander, pouting slightly as he ponders her. He resolves to ask about her at a later time, during a less heated moment.

The evening progresses nicely. A number of the crew are curious about their captain's companion, but many simply shrug it off. Far be it from them to begrudge their captain her latest holographic beau. Whatever keeps her happy. Janeway leads Bob through the crowd by the hand to a less populated nook.

Despite the fact that this isn't Bob's first time in the holodeck, he still looks amazed by everything he sees and can touch. As though he can hardly believe the sorcery at work in this wonderful room, Bob reaches down to touch an oversized chair...then slowly sits down in it. He heaves a tremendous sigh of relief, making the captain glow with pleasure. She is so happy that her friend's chains have been temporarily loosened. She scoots over a footstool for him as well, feeling strangely happy to tend to him like this. While she's always had her crew to think of and worry over, she hasn't had anyone to personally care for like this for quite a while. It's a most rewarding feeling.

He gazes up at her fondly, reaching for her hand. It would be obvious, if there had been any observers, that Bob is very much taken with the woman before him. His transparent look of utter devotion is a kind of attention Kathryn is still getting used, but finds quite pleasant. She keeps looking around to make sure that they're alone.

"I haven't done this in a very long time," Bob tells her candidly.

"You mean sitting down? I can imagine. Must feel nice to finally take a load off."

Bob strokes the arm of the chair appreciatively,"Yes, it's nice, but it wasn't what I was thinking of."

"Then, what?" Janeway asks curiously.

"Looking up to see someone," Bob grins, his eyes unwavering. He squeezes her hand and draws her down so she's sitting next to him. He would much rather have had her take a seat in his lap, but he figures she wouldn't be comfortable with that in this semi-public setting. It's hard for him to resist the urge to throw her down on the loveseat and make good use of it. Still, he holds his desires in check, trying his best to behave himself. He presses her hand to his cheek, cuddling in tenderly. His eyes lightly close and tears peek out from his fair lashes.

Kathryn smiles easily, letting him guide her hand over his face. She feels soft and cozy; Bob's innocent touch brings forth pleasurable tingles inside her. It reminds her once again how long it's been for her. Then she tells herself that her personal dry spell is nothing compared to Bob's. How he must crave basic human touch! He almost puts her in mind of a child bereft of his mother. Janeway pets him comfortingly, planting a light kiss on his forehead and dragging her fingers through his hair. She lingers over him, biting her lip as she mulls over the temptation to remain nestled with him like this for the rest of the night. Being able to touch someone like this is almost as novel for her as it is for Bob.

She hears music pick up in the main area. Several people start to pair off and dance. With a sly grin, Janeway slides off of the seat, helps Bob stand, and drags him to the dance floor.

As they dance, Tom and B'Elanna watch with great interest. They're both curious about this new character that their captain seems so fond of. She looks so happy: younger, lighter on her feet. Janeway and her dancing partner look over at them briefly, then put their heads together and whisper. Whatever the captain says obviously baffles and amazes her companion, who raises his eyebrows and points subtly at the chief engineer. All they can hear him say is, "Oh, good."

Realizing that they're being talked about, Tom and his wife glide over to them for a chat. "So, Captain, who's your friend?" the pilot asks. "I don't remember programming him. Custom job?"

Looking between the two men, Janeway quickly thinks up an answer. "Well, he's...certainly one of a kind."

B'Elanna then gives Bob an appraising look. "Nice work, Captain. Does he have a name?"

Truly annoyed at being spoken around—it reminds him too much of previous masters who treated him like furniture—Bob speaks up. "I am Hrothbert of Bainbridge," he declares coldly. "I am your captain's attendant for the evening. Do _you_ have names?"

The half-Klingon flinches, taken aback. The only hologram that she's used to getting this kind of attitude from is the Doctor. She supposes that her captain programmed her companion to have a bit more personality than typical ones made to fill space. "I'm B'Elanna Torres. This is my husband, Tom."

"Charmed," Bob drawls with lowered eyes.

Tom casts a wary look at his captain's escort, remarking, "One of a kind, all right." He looks between them, as something disconcerting occurs to him: the captain's companion acts as though he understood their conversation about the program. That's the most likely explanation for his brusque speech. And if Tom remembers correctly, the last time they had a holodeck character become self-aware, there was trouble!

As her two officers take their leave, Captain Janeway wishes Bob could have been less off-putting, but realizes Tom and B'Elanna could have been a bit more civil, too. She sighs and lets Bob spin her across the floor, as she is draped cozily against his warm body. He squeezes her hand and nuzzles down into her hair. It's a shame that despite having tangible form, he has no sense of smell. Still, he enjoys the pleasures available to him: his dancing partner's warmth and softness, the feel of her breath against his skin. He closes his eyes again and just holds her tightly.

"Kathryn, I-" Bob is whispering when she surprises him by giving him a quick kiss on the neck. He moans softly as she brings a hand up to his face, guiding it down towards hers. Then, she seems to lose her nerve, looking back down again and squeezing him gently.

It hasn't taken long for Captain Janeway to grow fond of the old ghost. In addition to being undeniably attractive, with a voice like velvet, he is also one of the sweetest souls she's ever known. Janeway can tell that her friend still has a dark streak to him, but it's just enough to compliment his light.

They twirl again, swinging once more into view of Chakotay, who is talking to Ensign Kim. Seven of Nine follows not far behind, bringing the image of a needy cocker spaniel to the captain's mind.

Bob looks at them both as well, then back at the woman in his arms. Disbelief is etched on his face and he looks as annoyed as Janeway. "Oh, no, not _that_ scrawny little thing. The buffoon has no taste," he remarks with disappointment. Out of the corner of his eye, Bob catches Chakotay staring at the two of them. _Let's give him something to stare at, shall we?_ And he tilts his master's chin up and kisses her on the mouth. She makes an alarmed noise and closes her eyes with a soft sigh of content, just letting it happen. Bob's lips and tongue rove hungrily over her lips, as he does everything he can to stop himself from shoving her up against a wall. When he breaks away with an audible smooching sound, Janeway grins up at him giddily, but spies Chakotay out of the corner of her eye, and quickly glances over at him. His face is a study of shock and regret. He sets his jaw and tries to look away, but keeps finding his eyes full of the odd pair.

"He didn't like that at all, did he?" Bob murmurs conspiratorially.

It takes Janeway a moment to realize what he meant by that, then nods in agreement, still very flushed. As far as kissing is concerned, it's clear that Bob is an expert. However, while it is most pleasurable, she can't shake the feeling that there was something left wanting. Could it be, ironically, that the _magic_ is missing? Suddenly, she feels guilty, as if she's being unfair to both Bob and to the man across the room. She heaves a sigh of regret, just letting the ghost hold her.

Disappointed by Kathryn's reaction to his kiss, Bob tries to figure out what's on her mind. He follows her line of sight and finds that she's still watching her first officer with sad eyes. "Who's that girl following him around, anyway? She looks like we could be related."

Kathryn looks from Bob to Seven and back again, now able to see some traces of resemblance. Both of them are tall, fair, striking figures with prominent eyes and trademark pouting lips. She raises an eyebrow to this idea, then figures that it's actually fairly likely, given the time that's passed since Bob was alive and siring children up and down the countryside.

"Seven of Nine," she answers shortly.

Bob grins at this, drawing his master's gaze. "Then she must be family, we have the same middle name!"

"Middle name?"

"Of."

She takes a moment to process this and then groans lightly. "Bob, that's the worst joke I've ever heard."

Bob chuckles along with her, tracing her cheek. "I got you to smile, though." While she smiles, though, he can tell that she is still troubled, and that her gaze is still wandering back to her first officer. In that moment, he knows she's lost to him, that she may never have been his to begin with. With a heavy sigh, he makes his peace with it, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head, cherishing his ability to cuddle her as long as he can.

"All right, let's rack 'em up!" Lieutenant Paris calls out gleefully. Pointing a cue at his captain, he throws down the gauntlet. "I have a challenge for Captain Janeway and I don't take no for an answer."

With a triumphant grin, Janeway sweeps away from her ghost and takes her place at the table, as well as the proffered cue. Tom racks, she leans over to take aim...Bob finds a spot with a good view as she draws her cue back and breaks. The 4 and the 5 go into opposite corner pockets, she straightens up and gives Tom a mock curtsy.

"There are plenty of balls left on the table," Tom reminds her, in an attempt to wipe the cocky smile off her face.

Bob raises a finger and opens his mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it.

The two officers continue the game, circling, talking across the table with lighthearted barbs and jabs. This evening is turning out to be just what the doctor ordered for the overworked captain. It's been a long time since she's had such a good time, and in the fun of the moment, she's almost forgotten about Chakotay's brief look of utter despair when she kissed Bob.

As her defeated pilot slinks away from the table, putting their cues away, he returns with a cold glass of white wine for the captain. Clinking glasses with her, he toasts, "To the victor goes the spoils. To the vanquished, the agony of defeat."

"Rematch?"

"You tell me when, I'll be there."

The captain smiles, "You're on. Just let me check my calendar."

Meanwhile, Bob is strolling around the pool table. Having watched the game with great interest, he is now quite keen to learn. "Kathryn," he calls, comparing cues that hang on the wall. "Might you teach me to play?"

Tom looks between them with raised eyebrows. "Now that's not fair. Are you going to teach that guy all of your secret tricks and leave me out in the cold?"

Glancing between them, Janeway pretends to think hard about it. "Hmm...yes."

It looks like the party is winding down. Chakotay approaches Bob and Kathryn as she teaches the former sorcerer how to hold a cue properly.

"Congratulations on your win, Kathryn. Teaching your new friend to play?"

"She's certainly trying to," Bob grunts, struggling to get in the right position. "Hello! Don't think we've met properly. My name is Hrothbert of Bainbridge, but my friends call me Bob." He straightens up and extends a hand. Chakotay takes it with an undisguised snigger as he wonders how Kathryn had come up with such an unusual moniker for her newest holographic beau. "Oh yes, everyone thinks I have a funny-sounding name," Bob intones. "How droll. I happen to like it, not that anyone asked. What might yours be?"

Janeway interrupts, "Bob, this is Commander Chakotay, my first officer."

"Oh yes. Enchanté." He gives him a winning smile.

"Well, see you later," Chakotay tells the captain. This new character has certainly taken the wind out of his sails. As soon as he's a few feet from them, they resume their pool lesson, chatting and laughing amiably, making the commander green with envy as he stalks away. He turns around as he reaches the door and sees Kathryn practically lying on top of that Hrothbert fellow, her hands over his, guiding the cue through their entwined fingers. He turns away in time to hear the _smack_ of the cue against the ball, and a dull _clunk_ as a ball drops into a pocket.


	6. Chapter 6

After their lesson, Captain Janeway is starting to feel very tired. All the way back to her quarters, she's yawning widely and thinking of bed. She slips her hand into her bag from time to time and gives the skull a pat.

"I had a nice time tonight, Bob," she murmurs softly. "I hope you did, too." She gets to her door, types in the code, and enters. The second that the doors are shut, Bob appears beside her, disappointingly intangible.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Kathryn. Absolutely unforgettable. Thank you," he tells her seriously.

They have spent the past few days in calm space, and tomorrow is Kathryn's scheduled day off. This was a perfect way to ease into it. She changes in the bathroom, as has been her habit since acquiring Bob, and comes out stretching comfortably. She sets the skull on her nightstand, gives its dome an affectionate rub,and practically dives into bed.

Bob stares at her longingly. It hardly seems possible that mere hours ago she was in his arms! That he held her and kissed her and danced with her! Now, away from that magical chamber, he is once more as removed from her as ever. How he longs to snuggle in with her!

A few minutes pass slowly by. In spite of how tired Janeway is, she finds that sleep eludes her. Her thoughts are full of her first officer and her personal ghost. What a lovely evening it was, if only it weren't for those awful complications with Chakotay. She thinks what a good kisser Bob is, how alive and attractive she felt in his arms. The way he stared at her, as though she was so precious to him. Then, suddenly sickened by guilt, she remembers the way Chakotay looked at her tonight. That lost, crestfallen expression, like he'd just lost his best friend. Then, just as quickly, she changes her tune yet again. A touch of vindication. _If you get that upset at seeing me with someone else, you shouldn't have made that crack about Seven of Nine and your four hands working together._ Her satisfaction doesn't last long, and remorse once again reigns supreme. _Oh, Bob! Have I been using you? It's been absolutely wonderful _but she realizes that her feelings for the ghost aren't as deep as his are for her. She cares for him, he's made her melt and smile and laugh as no one has been able to in recent years. Still, part of her has always held onto the hope that Chakotay would wait for her. Sleep does not find Kathryn Janeway for some time, and when she finally succumbs to it, it's light and poor quality.

Hours pass, and Janeway finds herself rising up out of the last wave of shallow sleep. She's almost relieved to be released from its tenuous grip. Then, she hears it: crying. Not just quiet weeping with the occasional sniffle; this is badly-suppressed shaking sobs. Inconsolable wretchedness. Instantly awake, Kathryn picks up the skull and holds it. The sobbing doesn't stop, but it tapers off a little. Bob is drawn to her, standing over her bed, gazing down at her longingly.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn. I...I'm afraid it's one of those bad nights. So sorry to wake you," he gasps. "Please hold me, just hold me like that. Keep me close." Bob's fit is waning now, but he still looks so miserable.

Kathryn cuddles the skull tenderly. It amazes her how ordinary of a gesture it is already. She holds it tightly, wishing she could hold its inhabitant this way. He obviously needs it. Two key aspects of her nature, her drive to nurture and her near-perpetual loneliness, work hard within her, driving her to comfort the poor lost soul. "What do you need?"

Bob shakes his head defeatedly. "It's impossible. It's...not allowed. Anyone would think I should be used to it, but...it's not something one can get used to, I'm afraid. It's not like developing resistance to pain. This is more like...it's _exactly_ like...I just need to rest," he says simply. "I haven't in so long and I'm just so tired. I can ignore it most of the time, but then it just hits out of nowhere."

Janeway looks at him, illuminated by the light of zooming stars. He does look exhausted tonight. She wonders how many days and nights like this he's endured, but didn't say anything. "I wish I could help you."

Bob gives her a watery smile and nods to show he understands. "I'm sure you do. I appreciate even the thought of it. Not many would be so considerate."

Lying back on her pillows, she beckons him to come closer. Her heart goes out to her friend, making her feel stubbornly determined to help somehow. "Isn't there _anything_ I can do?"

Bob knows exactly what she could do, and it would possibly do them both some good, but he hesitates. He'd spent years wishing it of his previous owner, but never mentioned it to him for fear of being kicked out. He promised himself never to suggest it, just to avoid an unpleasant conversation and resulting disappointment. Then, miraculously-

"I just thought of something, but I don't know if it will work," Kathryn begins as she becomes more awake and her brain starts to clear. "Maybe it's offensive, but I don't know. I don't mean-" she stops babbling, knowing she isn't getting anywhere. "Bob, you're a ghost..."

The accused nods, puzzled. "Yes, my dear, I am."

Smiling at his response, she continues. "Do ghosts...can you...go into someone else? Into someone's body?"

Bob gives a teasing smirk, making a big show of being about to say something lewd to that...all to hide his surprise that his master just hit the nail right on the head! "I can, actually," he answers truthfully.

Janeway looks like she's thinking hard about this, and bravely risks sounding ridiculous. "You're taller than me; would that affect things? I'm afraid I don't know much about the mechanics of..." she can't quite bring herself to say _possession._

"You would-! Kathryn, I...I don't know what to say!" he gazes at her, drinking in the sight of her lovely self. "Do you mean it? You'd let me...? To sleep, really?" All signs of his crying fit vanish, and he looks beside himself with joy. He clasps his hands together and actually spins in place.

Trying not to laugh at his reaction, Janeway nods helpfully. "Just for tonight," she reminds him.

"Of course. Of course, my dear. Oh! Darling, I love you!"

He gives her no time to respond to that declaration, he slides right into her and nestles in comfortably. Inside, Janeway can hear a long sigh of relief, just as when he sat down a few hours earlier. The next second, as though she's suddenly pulled under deep, dark water, she's fast asleep.

As the morning shift takes the bridge, Chakotay is in command. There's nothing of consequence to report, apart from a nearby nebula that looks like a likely source of energy for the ship. As they wing their way to it, the day drags on. The first officer looks from time to time at the empty captain's chair. He's glad she's taking the day off, reminding himself that she doesn't do this nearly often enough. He wonders what she's up to, how she's enjoying her free time. Chakotay imagines her curled up with a good book, perhaps doing some tidying up around her quarters, the simple minutia of life that gets neglected all too often. Then, he imagines her in the holodeck with the strange new character she seemed so attached to the night before. It makes him grip his armrest hard, digging his fingernails into it, setting his teeth against the feeling of powerlessness that surges up in him. Chakotay reminds himself, nearly does aloud, that she was never his to lose. This does little to help as he remembers the sight of those two kissing. His Kathryn, looking so happy and taken care of...in another man's arms. Not even a _real_ man's arms! Maybe that's what's getting his goat. If she had to turn to somebody, would it be any easier if it was an actual member of the crew? A flesh and blood person?

Chakotay supposes that he probably wouldn't have reacted any better if that had been the case, shaking his head ponderously. He remembers how the white-haired Englishman cooed over her all night. He imagines her snuggled up on a loveseat, in some Jane Austen simulation, being purred at in sweet old-fashioned romantic English. He claps a hand over his face as he thinks of this. Another feeling nags him, though. He can barely place it amid the jealousy which nearly choked him last night: it's guilt. He promised Kathryn years ago to make her burdens lighter, to put her needs first. He realizes then that he hasn't held up his end of it lately. True, she hasn't been such a good friend lately either...

He can't help it, when he closes his eyes he sees Kathryn and that Hrothbert—what a name—twirling through his head, happy as can be. It makes him sick. _Have I really lost her for good this time?_

After they reach the nebula, Chakotay decides that it would cheer Janeway up to hear that she needn't worry about her precious coffee supply running out, as they were able to store away enough energy reserves to last for at least another month. He taps his badge.

"Chakotay to Captain Janeway."

No answer.

"Chakotay to Captain Janeway, respond."

Silence...

After he checks the time, Chakotay supposes that she might be in the sonic shower or taking a bath, and therefore not very inclined to answer hails at the moment. He waits.

After another twenty minutes, he tries again.

"Bridge calling Captain Janeway. Please respond."

Again, no answer.

"Chakotay to Janeway, come in!"

All of the bridge crew looks at each other with growing concern.

"Chakotay to Sickbay. Doctor, meet me on deck 4, officer's quarters. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

He meets the EMH and they go together to Captain Janeway's quarters. Chakotay taps in the code and they enter. It's all dark.

"Kathryn!" He calls sharply.

He detects movement in the bedroom, hears a soft noise... With the Doctor at his heels, Chakotay kneels next to his captain's bedside, patting her cheek lightly. "Kathryn..."

She rolls over, mumbling, "No, no you nincompoop! You'd be better off stuffing pigeons up your sleeves like your father." Shifting again, she mutters, "I'm sorry, that was below the belt... a fine wizard, really, just can't jelly snails worth shit." She flings herself onto her other side and cuddles her pillow tightly.

Both men are trying not to laugh at what their captain is saying. Chakotay struggles to keep a straight face, giving Captain Janeway's shoulder a shake. "Kathryn!"

Bob opens his eyes and stares at his human alarm clock blearily. "Oh...hello, Commander. Good morning," he yawns. "Wh-what are you doing here? I don't imagine you serve as the entire ship's wake-up call, do you?"

The Doctor scans up and down the captain's body, looking for any signs of illness. He actually looks pleased with the readout, smirking and nodding with approval. "She certainly got a healthy night's sleep, Commander. Perhaps she's just making up for lost time." Then, realizing he's not required here, the Doctor heads back to Sickbay.

Chakotay doesn't budge from the bedside. He holds Kathryn's hand and pats it. "You really gave me a scare. I was worried."

"You...you were worried? About-" Bob stops himself from saying "About Kathryn?".

"About you, yes," Chakotay purrs, fully realizing how afraid he was when he thought there was something wrong. "It got me thinking...I miss you. So often, you feel so far away. Then I saw you dancing last night with that character with the weird name."

"Oh, that's sweet. You mean you care?" If his master won't love him back, Bob has to feel some relief that the man she's pledged herself to feels the same way. "We all thought...you and..." he tapers off sleepily, yawning.

"That's just gossip; it's really getting annoying, to be honest. She's a child, for heaven's sake."

Bob grins, knowing how much this will please Kathryn when she's awake to hear it. Mentally, he starts nudging her, begging her to wake up to let him off the hook. A quick peek inside shows the captain in her underwear with a dragon and her third grade math teacher, wandering around in a maze made of bookcases... _Oh, Kathryn, you're gone,_ he silently groans. _Wake up!_

"You really care," Bob says aloud, dreamily. "That's so sweet. Really. You...you're not such a big, dumb lummox after all, you know that? You're an okay guy. I like you. You're...you're even off my people to haunt list," he mutters with a serious expression.

Chakotay laughs, stroking Janeway's hair. "Well, thank you. We'll talk more once you're awake, okay?"

"Okay." Then Bob looks up at him appraisingly. "Come here and cuddle, you shaven yeti."

Now convinced that his captain is still half-dreaming, he bends down over her and gives her a hug. Then he stands back up and goes to the replicator, returning with a steaming cup of coffee.

"That should clear the cobwebs out," he tells her kindly.

Bob sits up and takes the mug, inhaling its pungent aroma. The smell alone is enough to rouse him somewhat, and as he takes a tentative sip, his "other half" wakes up with a start! They choke, spluttering.

"Easy does it, Captain," Chakotay says, patting her on the back as she coughs. When he's satisfied that she's all right, he leaves her alone.

"Calm down, Kathryn, it's all right. I filled in for you. He never suspected a thing was amiss."

"What...what?" Janeway shoots out groggily.

"Apparently, together we're deep sleepers. Your first officer got rather concerned: he thought you were ill. He came here to check on you."

Janeway stands, whipping the covers off and pacing. "What did you say? What did _he_ say?"

"Kathryn, everything is fine. More than fine, actually. Everything that could possibly be fine, is fine," Bob promises. "Now how about some breakfast?"

The last few words creep into Janeway's sleep-addled brain. She clutches her head and Bob guides her to the replicator. "Yes...yes, fine..."

"It's your day off, Kathryn. I'm going to take care of you, you have my word."

A warm surge of gratitude swells up inside her as Janeway closes her eyes and runs her hands through her hair. She's absolutely amazed at the soft, sweet feelings she's getting from Bob. How very much he loves her and wishes to look after her. Ever since acquiring him, he's been taking his self-assumed duty very seriously. He's ensured that she ate more regularly, and better. He would gently remind her every so often that it was time to quit work for the evening. In her mind, she's often referred to him as her butler. This was a good part of the reason why it pleased her so to tend to him last night, she liked being able to pay it back.

"Now, remember: whatever we order, it's not going to run away if you don't inhale it on sight," Bob reminds her.

Janeway groans, "Please don't remind me. I've been good, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have," he agrees, feeling quite pleased with himself that he's done so well with her. "Your manners have certainly improved, almost fit for a lady."

"I'm a Starfleet brat. This is as ladylike as I get," she returns smartly. With both Bob's and her own tastes in mind, she addresses the replicator.

"Plain sweet scone with strawberries and clotted cream."

Bob nearly swoons inside of her, "Oh, darling, that sounds heavenly!" He even detects her thoughts of allowing him to stay to enjoy it. "You're just wonderful, do you know that?" He gushes earnestly.

Janeway blushes, feeling rather guilty about accepting his compliments. She chooses not to answer and merely takes the plate that's just appeared and carries it and her coffee mug to the small table. She picks up the scone and is about to dip it into the cup of thick cream when her left hand swats at her right.

"Ah ah! Not like that," her friend teases her from within. He then splits the scone lengthwise and spreads it smoothly, topping the cream with sliced strawberries. He does the same to the other half with an internal "ta-da!"

Janeway rolls her eyes, thinking a mental warning at Bob that he's pushing his luck. She instantly forgives him when she takes her first bite. As one, they let out low moans of pleasure, savoring every bit of it. There's something almost sexy in the act that makes the captain blush. She's never been turned on by just strawberries and cream, but perhaps her passenger is skewing her imagination that way.

"_This_ is how you enjoy yourself. When and where and how you can," Bob wisely informs her as he licks up every last crumb. "Make it last, because we may not pass this way again."

Finishing her last sip of coffee, Janeway gives a soft, contented sigh, seeing the sense in her friend's rhapsodies. He takes this as his cue to leave, and floats on out of her.

"Thank you so much, my dear. I cannot ever repay you."

She smiles up at him fondly with a sigh. "Thank _you_," Kathryn returns honestly, so very grateful for the friendship she has with this man.

"Dear, let me help you," he asks of her, now looking very serious, almost grave.

Shaking her head, Janeway has no idea what he's talking about. "Help me what?"

Bob thinks long and hard about how to put his plan into words. He paces smoothly with his hands pressed together. He keeps looking from his master to the ceiling as he plots. He knows that what he's about to tell her will be painful for him; it would mean ultimately losing her forever. He knows where her heart lies; after his soul spent the night cuddled against hers, he can't help knowing. Bob braces himself, taking several breaths to prepare himself.

"Darling..." Regret is etched in every inch of his deathly-pale face. A single tear slides down as he recalls the feeling of her in his arms, how contentedly they nestled together mere hours ago, like a basket of sleeping kittens. "Kathryn..." His Dark side, his selfish side, doesn't want to tell her what he learned this morning while she was still asleep. It wheedles and argues and tells him exactly what he wants to hear: that he's her true love, that he is so much better suited to her, how superior he clearly is to his competition. It takes considerable strength, but he shoves it aside, shrieking aloud in a wild, fierce voice: "NO!" He brings his hands up to cup his face, hardening his resolve. He decides then to tell her as quickly as he can. "Commander Chakotay waits for you still. He's remained true; there is no affair between him and the vixen. He wishes to bury the hatchet, to be friends again. Possibly more."

Janeway stares at him with her mouth hanging open. "Really? He said that?"

Bob nods shakily, unable to speak. He looks at her, with his hands up to his mouth, then at the door, then back again. "Do it carefully, my dear. Please. Make friends again."

"Oh, Bob..." her voice breaks sympathetically. He loves her; he told her so already, yet here he is, urging her to fix her relationship with Chakotay. Helping her yet again.

Still looking rather ashen, he continues. "What we had was...it was the happiest I've been in many long years. But I know better than to force you to forget the man you've pledged your heart to. I would still be your friend, if you'll let me."

"I'd like that," Kathryn replies.

"And, if things don't work out with you and the commander, you'll still have me. Always. I should have known this from the start, honestly. You need someone alive, someone with a pulse and a real body, that you can have here in your world and not rely on your fantasy chamber. I just want you to know, Kathryn, nothing has changed. I love you, and I want to help. There's something we need to do first, though."


	7. Chapter 7

"Why do we have to be here?" Janeway asks as they enter the holodeck. She's certainly spent more time here in the last week than she has in the last month. Bob places a hand at her back and guides her along, they're back in the program they first ran together: a place full of happy, pleasurable memories for both of them.

When they're sitting under the tree, Bob explains. "Because I need to be able to touch you for this. There's something I found in you last night while we slept. I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want to frighten you, but I have to."

"You found what in me?"

With a very serious expression, Bob tells her, "Black magic. Don't laugh, it's not a joke. Like...with kissing. You can feel it there, the magic, the spark...you don't have to be able to wield it to feel it, to enjoy it fully. So, too, do you not need to be able to wield Black magic to your purpose to feel it befoul your soul. I've known The Black, and I can tell you that it's touched you. It hasn't gotten complete control of you, but I'm afraid it might if left unchecked."

Janeway scoffs, shaking her head, "Black magic? Bob, this is the 24th century-."

"And magic still exists, good and bad. I felt both in you. It's why you are the way you are, why you need _me_ of all people! I want to do this for you, I want to heal you. I...I know how, but it won't be easy. And it will be violent, which is why I need to be able to hold on to you."

By now, all mirth has gone from Janeway's expression. She looks downright scared. "You're serious. Real Black magic? In me?"

Bob takes her hands, stroking them comfortingly. "Yes, Kathryn. But I can help you if you let me. Just say the word and we can be done with it."

"I...I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Are you saying someone on _Voyager _is putting spells on me or...?"

"No, I'm not saying that," the ghost answers sorrowfully. "If it were that simple, it would just be a matter of shielding you from them, boosting your resistance. This...this has sunk its claws into you and it has for quite some time from what I saw."

"What do you mean?"

Rather than answer, Bob thinks it may be better to demonstrate, to show her. He tightens his grip on her hands and looks her square in the eye. "Kathryn, pet..." She flinches, which Bob mentally notes. "You are at your core a good, decent, loving human being. You deserve better than this." With every word he places in her favor, she starts trying to pull away, breaking eye contact, looking increasingly distressed. "I know you, darling, and you are lovely and graceful and kind-."

At this, she wrenches away, bowing her head, muttering frightened denials. She cringes like an abused dog, waiting to be struck. "No, no, stop it! Stop saying that!" Then slowly, realization dawns on her. She finds herself bent over, a base desire to flee is strong in her. Kathryn straightens up, clearly not knowing why she reacted that way. Bob gazes at her with pity, bringing a hand to her cheek.

"You see? It does that. Makes it so you forget the good in you, reject your best qualities as shameful or lies. And that's just the beginning. Black magic affects everyone differently, focuses on a particular set of emotions or behaviors. In my case, it was selfishness. I nurtured it and claimed it as my own, wielded it to impressive results, harming all in my path without caring. I was a demon. Fortunately, being the way you are, you can't set it to work for you, you can't sink to the same depths that I did. I think in you it must have latched onto your guilt. Don't get me wrong, ordinary guilt is a perfectly selfless emotion. When you give all of your energy, though, when you feed it and clothe it and harbor it close to your heart...it twists and distorts. It becomes obsession, despair, driving you to reckless behavior, nursing those might-have-beens, those should-haves. Making you willing to do anything, anything to undo those wrongs in your past, no matter what further wrongs it drives you to do."

Kathryn listens, white as a sheet, as he describes her tormented mind and soul perfectly. It frightens her to know what she has given such power to over the years. Looking at it through this perspective, she sees its marks plainly in her descents into her darker side. Those times she allowed herself to become unhinged: during their time in the Void, their incident with the _Equinox._..she shudders.

In a hoarse voice, she whispers fearfully, "Is it too late?"

Bob then realizes how badly he's frightened her, how close he's hit to home. It relieves him that she isn't laughing at him anymore and desires his help, but he hates to see her look so afraid. He pulls her into a hug and pats her back. "No, no, of course it's not too late! Heavens, no. You'll be all right. We'll get through it together, you'll see. It won't be easy, or painless, but if you're brave enough...you can march into Hell with me and come out clean on the other side." He kisses her forehead and hugs her tighter. "I'm doing this because I love you, and because you're my master, and my friend. I'll be with you the whole time, I promise."

Janeway nods, hugging back just as tightly, feeling a sick thrill of anticipation in her stomach. "All right."

"Now I want you to relax as best as you can. Take a deep breath," Bob orders, securing her in a solid grip. He knows ahead of time to expect a fight.

"Too tight," Kathryn complains, struggling a little against him.

"That's the idea, trust me. Am I hurting you?" She shakes her head resignedly. "Good, then we'll begin." Together, they close their eyes. "I'm going to have you show me your worst. Get The Black to show itself, then we'll fight back against it. It needs to be lured out, free of all disguise. This...is really going to hurt."

Bob breathes out and passes his fingers through her head, just like he did the night they first met. Instead of pushing the bad memories back, though, he is coaxing them out into the open, viewing them personally. One by one, he and Kathryn live the worst moments of her life, drawing out The Black as each time soiled her soul. They venture further and further into despair, into hopelessness; an oily residue of Black magic follows at every turn. No words are spoken, but they moan and cry out together, weeping as one. Soon, Kathryn begins to rebel, or rather, the Darkness within her begins fighting back for control. She strikes out at Bob, beating him with her one free hand, struggling hard to escape his embrace, shrieking wild obscenities as he goes deeper and deeper. They're both screaming and crying hard, wracked with the onslaught of her Darkness. Bob clings to her with all of his might, pressing her to his chest, fighting to keep her within his grasp as she fights against her medicine.

In her mind, Kathryn sees Bob standing with her, a gleaming white knight with a shining sword, challenging the foulness that has sunken its claws so deeply into her soul. He is at her side, as her protector and defender. He's seen the worst she's done, the worst she's had to endure, and he still allies himself to her.

"Remember all of that?" Bob needlessly asks her. She nods jerkily with a shameful whimper. "Now...think of when it didn't own you, when you were happy and most like yourself. When you were brave and strong, and in control."

She does as he commands, struggling at first to find a memory like that. Her first thought is of her father, the rare times he told her he was proud of her. He was a man of few words and high expectations, so she cherished every kindness he showed her. She finds she can remember Justin the same way. Strangely, the first thing she remembers about him is when they were first acquainted and she had to fight to earn his respect: their old snappish relationship before it gave way to love. She felt like herself then. She remembers those times while here on _Voyager_, when her determination had nothing to do with guilt or blame, madness or obsession, but when she acted as a mother bear while she protected her crew. Each positive emotion feels difficult at first, as though something is telling her that she isn't allowed to think such things of herself, that she isn't worthy. Still, a spark arises and blooms into a mighty flame, and she fights back against her Darkness. She remembers the first time she stared down the Vidiians, vowing to meet any further hostility with "the deadliest force." She remembers when Tom Paris and Tuvok were trapped in a booby-trapped holodeck program, while she raced against time to save them by rewriting parts of the program as she could. Fondly, Janeway recalls her final days on New Earth, when she'd finally accepted their fate. She'd happily anticipated spending the rest of her life on that secluded little planet with Chakotay, boating, gardening, raising a family... before _Voyager _came back for them. She thinks of being Queen Arachnia in Tom's ridiculous Captain Proton game, how that strangely made her feel as though she belonged.

"Good, good!," Bob tells her. "Now think of those whom you love, and those who love you." The images come faster now, easier. It's like flinging brightly colored sheets of paper to the four winds. Images of her family, Justin, Mark, Kes, Seven of Nine, so many of her crew...and finally Chakotay. For several seconds, images of him, memories of him, shoot through her mind and her heart. Those cozy dinner dates they would sometimes enjoy, how he would "defend" her from Q's advances, and just all the times he was simply _there_.

Finally, the last image is of Bob dancing with her.

The Darkness within her is retreating as they rain good upon it. Kathryn feels Bob using what magic remains to him to amplify her positive feelings, her good memories, her true self. She feels as though she's being filled with light, as though she is being cleansed from the inside out. In her mind, they stand together on the bridge; the Black magic, an enemy vessel, and their amplified, concentrated energy, phasers set at full strength. They fire at it, until it's finally defeated.

Together, they gasp shakily, sobbing as they reel from the effort. They open their eyes and stare at each other. Tears stream down their faces like gentle, cooling rain after a violent thunderstorm.

"How do you feel?" Bob asks, feeling strangely out of breath.

Janeway nods, feeling equally winded. "Drained, but better. Thank you."

"Good, because Lieutenant Paris is standing right over there, patiently waiting his turn in this room. Shh, don't panic." Raising his voice significantly, he goes on, "I'm sure he won't do anything stupid. He only wants to make sure you're all right." Bob looks straight at Tom, who puts his hands up and nods, backing away.

Bob then turns back to Kathryn, helping her stand and looking her over. "Do you really think that it helped?"

"I think so. It feels...lighter. Thank you."

"You're most welcome," he replies, nearly laughing in relief. "You deserve this. Your soul is your own, and it's a good one."

For once, she doesn't flinch back from his praise. She just smiles up at him. Then, remembering that Tom is watching, she says, "Computer, delete character," while looking pointedly at the skull in her bag. Bob catches on perfectly and vanishes into it.

Tom stares at his captain, not sure what to say. "Good morning, Captain."

"Mr. Paris," she returns.

"What...um, what was that? Was he...that character...did he hurt you?"

Janeway raises a deflecting hand, shaking her head, "No more than necessary. Some things...have to hurt if they're to heal. I'm all right, Tom, but thank you. We can rematch in an hour or two, if you're not afraid." Then she leaves him without another word.

She makes an unexpected trip to the Mess Hall, and, finding it fairly empty, snoops around behind the counter for a snack. She hums a little to herself, off-key but with a glad heart.

"Captain! What a nice surprise!" Neelix gushes at her. "You're a bit late for lunch, but you know I always keep a little something back for the stragglers." Without another word, he opens a refrigerator and tosses a bowl of something into a large wok. He turns up the flames and tosses it casually, pinching in seasonings as he might. "I heard you had today off, that's wonderful. Nothing like not having any responsibilities for the day. I hope you got to sleep in and take it easy."

"Thank you, Neelix, I most certainly did." Janeway peers curiously into the pan, trying to sniff out what's in store for her. So far, it looks better than most of his concoctions. It almost reminds her of something her father would have cobbled together out of leftover odds and ends when she was a kid. He dishes her up and she takes her bowl to a table. It's a mixture of noodles, unidentified vegetables, and a spicy golden broth she can't quite place. Sitting down with Bob's skull in her lap, she gives it a tentative taste and is quite pleasantly surprised.

Behind her, the doors swish open, and Chakotay walks in. Suddenly she feels butterflies in her stomach, as if she were meeting a blind date. Though she knows him well, she feels like a new person, fresh and unfettered with guilt, and wonders nervously if he will notice the change, and will like the new version of her.

"Still having trouble jellying those snails?" he asks with a grin. _At least he's smiling. _She forces herself to look into his eyes and contemplate that smile. His dimples seem to wink at her, silently easing her worries, grounding her butterflies. _But what was that he said?_

Kathryn raises an eyebrow, totally confused. "Snails?"

Chakotay laughs softly, taking a seat across from her, glad for the first time in a long time to be in her company without feeling pressured to give a report or to leave her alone. "You were talking in your sleep this morning. You weren't answering the comm line and I got worried, so I came up to find you in your quarters. Sounded like a hell of a dream you were having. I'm not surprised you don't remember my being there."

"What in the world was I saying?" She groans softly, putting a hand over her mouth.

"I figured you were still asleep even when you were talking to me, don't worry. Although I'm glad you don't think I'm a big, dumb lummox and that I'm off your people to haunt list." She wonders how he can possibly believe she would call him a 'big, dumb, lummox' and is suddenly sad that they have drifted so far apart that he seems to not know her at all anymore. Another time, years ago, he would have instantly realized such language could not possibly refer to her thoughts about him.

"Oh, no..." Janeway breathes with a hint of a laugh, trying to cover her sadness and mortification, and genuinely surprised to find that they're speaking comfortably to each other for the first time in what seems like ages. She may yet get back her Chakotay, her friend and confidant. She attempts a joke, something she knows he'll appreciate, "I might not sleep often, but when I do, I sleep hard."

She knows she's succeeded when he gives her a hearty laugh, full of joy and hope. "Well, that's good."

For a few moments, they are silent, and while silence usually unnerves her, the captain is strangely calm, and notices that Chakotay appears equally peaceful. Janeway smiles and takes another spoonful of soup. Gesturing to it, she quietly remarks, "Not half bad today. As long as he doesn't spoil it by telling me what it is." They laugh over this together. Finally, Janeway decides to address the elephant in the room.

"Chakotay...I've been a lousy friend lately. I've...been bad to you, and I'm sorry. I think...I hope...that I'll get better. I actually feel better already. I can't explain it now, but..." She remembers Bob's advice: ___start small, let them know you want to be friends again, find out what it will take for that to happen__. "_How can we go back to the way things were?"

Chakotay is shocked at her sudden honesty, and a little worried about her well-being as a result. Last night was weird, but this is weirder: he can't remember a time when she was so open with her feelings, not even on New Earth. He can't recall a time when she voluntarily offered an apology for anything less than putting someone's life in danger. _Is she feeling okay?_ He knows, however, that while he used to be able to inquire as to her state of being, such a statement might feel intrusive, and he opts for something less assuming: "Is that really what you want?"

With soft eyes, Kathryn nods. "Is it what you want?"

He decides to match her honesty with his own, even though it feels slightly uneasy. ___It'll get easier with practice...something I hope we'll have the opportunity for__. And_, he realizes_, ____I can help make that happen__. _ "I've missed you," he admits. "Just...like this, just us. Somewhere along the way, I think something got lost."

"Maybe we just need to retrace our steps," she suggests simply.

In his skull, Bob is silently cheering his master on! If he can't have her, Commander Chakotay is certainly going up in Bob's opinion.

Chakotay smiles, showing his dimples again. "Maybe," he allows softly.

Kathryn has already been feeling buoyed up thanks to Bob's intervention/quasi-exorcism, and she now feels as though it was all done for this: to make her "human" again for Chakotay! Looking into his caring eyes, she feels a warmth permeate her entire being, as if it's the first day of spring: the frost is melting from the ground as the sun pierces through gray clouds. Just seeing his face, with no hint of anger or regret, fills her with sheer joy! "I'd like that, really." And another realization comes to her, as she remembers his words: _he's missed me as much as I've missed him_. How long it's been since she's even dared imagine this.

Bravely, Chakotay reaches across the table and takes her hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of it, feeling the urge to hum with contentment. Somehow, they don't need words right now. She threads her fingers through his with a giddy smile. Warm tingles erupt all over her. She silently looks down at their clasped hands and back up at his face, feeling hopeful but uncertain.

Once again, images of him flood her brain: placing his hand on her shoulder before they entered a thankfully empty cargo bay, exchanging glances of understanding with her after coming to an agreement about their chief engineer or discovering their Cardassian spy, waking up to his face looking down upon her in Sickbay... It occurs to her that while Bob did his part of her healing, it is Chakotay who has the power to keep the Darkness from her soul: she just has to let him in. He's been trying for years to help, and she kept pushing him away, and of course he eventually gave up, too much of a gentleman to force himself upon her in any way, even for her own good, except when absolutely necessary to save the ship, or to save her. She remembers how she almost killed the captain of the _Equinox_, and how he stopped her, and how many other times she didn't let him, and expects to feel ashamed. But, because of the absence of Darkness, she feels only sadness about what she has missed, what he could have given her, and a hope for what he still could, if he knows it is allowed.

After a few moments, Janeway asks him, "So, what are you doing today?"

"I think I'll try a vision quest, actually. I started the other day, but couldn't focus. I should be able to now." He smiles smoothly, letting her take that as she might. He's vaguely surprised to find she still blushes at his attention. "I'd better go. Enjoy your lunch. We'll talk more later." He wants to stay, to keep her company so she doesn't have to eat alone, but this comfortable ease between them is new again, and he doesn't want to push his luck. He also has work to do, but has very carefully avoided mentioning that, because he doesn't want to force her back into captain mode, not when he is finally getting the pleasure of enjoying Kathryn again.

As soon as he's gone, Bob speaks up from his master's lap. "That was sweet, really. Very touching."

"You think so? We didn't seem to cover much ground. He left."

"Ah, ah, my dear. Less is more. It's all in what _doesn't_ need to be said. Now, I can tell that you two have known each other for years, you're accustomed to each other, attuned to each other. He's obviously noticed the difference in you already. If you would allow me to speak to him, I could gauge the situation better myself."

Kathryn hesitates, giving the wrapped-up skull a doubtful look, wondering if it's even appropriate for her ex-almost-boyfriend to approach the next man in her sights. _Weird is part of the job_, she reminds herself wisely. She knows that Chakotay would not be pleased at all to meet with Bob, especially after Sandrine's.

Bob seems to guess his master's thoughts, and puts in his two cents worth. "I promise to be discreet and on my best behavior. From what I saw, the two of you have the potential to be very happy together."

"All right," she murmurs, hoping this is a good idea.

They return to her quarters, and Bob reappears and stretches. "I'd say it's been a good day, overall. How are you feeling now?"

Janeway has to admit, "Worlds better, really. I just hope _that_ doesn't come back."

"It won't if you don't let it. It should be easier for you now. Next time you think your soul needs another good spit-and-polish, though, you don't have to go through it alone." He paces the room, obviously in thought, as though a plot is hatching. "Kathryn? What's a vision quest?"

"From what Chakotay tells me, it's a form of meditation. He sends himself into the spirit world to speak to his ancestors, if they're available. He usually does it if he has a problem or question in mind."

"Like the two of you," Bob points out observantly. He looks intrigued by this idea, even pleased. He taps his fingers against his chin thoughtfully, pouting to himself as he ponders... "I wonder...it would be better than going to him like this. How to get in, though?"

Kathryn's eyes widen as she realizes what her ghost is planning to do. "You're going to _join_ him? In _there_?" The idea of Bob waltzing into Chakotay's mind and having a man-to-man talk with him there is not exactly what she was expecting.

"I'll certainly try. I think it will be for the best. At least he'll know I'm not just a character in your fantasy chamber."

"Holodeck," she corrects with amusement, secretly liking his word for it better.

Bob simply cocks his head at her curiously, making his master wonder if he and Seven really are related, that gesture of endearing confusion reminds her of the former Borg. He shrugs, looking comfortably annoyed, fluttering a hand in the air nonsensically. "Whatever you call it, it doesn't matter. Do you think that Mr. Chakotay will be in his vision by now?" He doesn't give her time to respond: he flicks his eyes skyward and acquires a firm look of determination. "Captain, may I?" he softly asks, smirking at the little joke he made.

Kathryn nods, "Go ahead. Good luck." Helpfully, she carries the skull to the wall between Chakotay's and her quarters in order to give Bob as much room as she can. She gives the skull a little pat and then steps away from it as though it was a bomb. Bob mists away and vanishes through the wall...

Chakotay opens his eyes and sees the twilit woods of his youth, where he always goes in his vision quests. He looks around calmly, wondering if his ancestors will join him this time. Then, he sees something unexpected. Something that certainly doesn't belong in his place of safety and security: a pillar of smoke with a fiery tail floating out of the sky. He stands to investigate. The smoke touches the ground and takes the shape of the man he last saw with Kathryn on the holodeck. He furrows his brow and approaches with a scowl.

Bob looks around himself in amazement, the very picture of pleasant surprise. "It worked! It really worked! If I'd known I could do this..." then he spots the man whose mind he's in, "Commander, hello!"

Chakotay regards him distrustfully, "How in the world did a holodeck character get in my vision quest?!"

"I'm actually a ghost. I found I could take tangible form on your holodeck. Quite a nice surprise, actually. Anyway, I really want to talk to you about Kathryn."

"Don't you _dare_ speak to me about Kathryn! I don't know what you're doing with her, and-,"

"I'm not, we're not! We tried, _I _tried, but all she thinks of is you. The way I see it, if I can't have her, I want to at least ensure that my successor is someone worthy."

"You?" Chakotay laughs darkly. "You're here to make sure _I'm_ worthy?"

"I want to leave her in good hands; I don't want her to be hurt any more than she already has been. You understand," Bob requests reasonably. "I care for her immensely, I'll have you know. I couldn't help falling in love with her; she's been nothing but kind and generous and perfectly _wonderful_," he gushes emphatically. "Her heart belongs to you, though, I'm not going to dispute that. There are just a few things you need to understand about her."

Chakotay crosses his arms, "Go on. Enlighten me."

"Well, there is a the small matter of my...casting the Blackness out of her soul, but I don't imagine that would be important to you," Bob informs him in a mockery of modesty. "You'll find her much easier to be around, if it worked properly."

"Blackness?"

"Yes. I'm surprised, Commander. I'd heard you were a spiritual man. You must have noticed. Her soul was tainted by Black magic, harbored over years by guilt and obsession. Makes one very unsuitable for giving and receiving affection, as you may have seen. Honestly, your computer lady has my book on file, it would tell you all you need to know about a contaminated soul like Kathryn's. What I'm saying is, don't judge her too harshly. Most of what you've seen in her that's come between you was Black magic at work. You know that at her heart she's a perfectly splendid woman."

It's true, over the years Chakotay has sensed something creeping up on the woman he loves. Pushing them away from each other, like an evil spirit set at keeping the two of them at odds with each other. Could it have really been Black magic? Could she have really been taken over by that unawares? "If that's true...and you helped her get rid of it...then thank you."

Bob brushes his thanks away casually, "I only wanted to help her. She definitely seems better already."

"That's what she was hinting at earlier. Just a little while ago, we were talking and...she wants to be friends again."

"Trust me, I've seen her: mind, heart, and soul. You don't know how happy she was when I told her that you weren't interested in that blonde woman."

"_You_ told her? I told her that!"

Here, Bob looks a little embarrassed, almost guilty. "You told me that, actually. Kathryn let me into her body so I could sleep. She is so sweet, Commander! I hadn't slept in over a thousand years, and that was wonderful! Anyway, she was still out for the count, so that charming conversation you had this morning was with me. And apparently, I talk in my sleep...about my former apprentice." A sad look of nostalgia creeps across his face. The dream was so real, so vivid, he'd felt as though he was back at home again, back where he belonged, with Harry. He sighs pensively.

Somehow Chakotay recognizes that this isn't the time to mock him for the subject matter of his dream. As amusing as it was to hear about, there's something serious about it beneath the surface. The strange ghost was obviously dreaming about someone he misses.

"So, if you were permitted, would you pursue Kathryn with honorable intentions?" As well as picking up verbal cues, Bob is picking up plenty about the other man simply by sharing space in his spirit world. He's absorbing a great deal about Chakotay's character and so far it's coming up clean. Bob can tell that Chakotay is just as protective of the captain as he is, and his desire to make her happy is equal to his own.

Here, Chakotay looks a little sad, as this touches a few moments in the past that were nipped in the bud. "If she'd let me."

Bob leans in and puts a hand on the man's shoulder, whispering firmly, "She'll let you."

Chakotay nods with a hopeful quirk to his lips. It's not quite a smile but it looks like it wants to be. "If I have the chance, I will be good to her. You have my word." Somehow, through the same osmosis, Chakotay can get a feel for Bob; he knows that Bob's feelings for Kathryn are true and...honorable.

This delights the ghost to no end; he flings his arms around Chakotay in an unexpected hug, chuckling darkly to himself with a wide, toothy grin. "I'm so glad! I wish...I _do_ wish she could have been mine, but that you would return her feelings...it's perfect! Now, remember your promise! Take good care of her. She needs looking after." And with that, Bob returns to his pure form and mists away.


	8. Chapter 8

Bob returns to his master's side, looking triumphant in his quest. "All clear, Kathryn! He was surprised, of course, that I chose to drop in on him, but he has my seal of approval."

Shaking her head with a pleased smirk, Janeway feels thankful toward her friend. "You really went in there? Into Chakotay's spirit plane? It's real?"

"It's real. You know, if I'd gotten him younger, I could have trained him. He may have been born with the Gift but he just let it atrophy. Pity. And you thought you had no wizards on this ship. If you find anyone else here who has it, and is still relatively young and pliable, I'd be happy to offer instruction. It...might make me feel more at home."

"Well, I can't promise anything, but if it ever comes up I'll let you know." She wonders to herself if Bob is right about Chakotay!

Weeks pass, and bit by bit, Janeway and Chakotay become close again as their friendship recovers. The bridge crew is the first to notice the change. Most of them have noticed how forced their conversations were for some time; this sounds real, much more natural than before. It's a relief to all around that their command team is acting like a team again. The news filters down throughout the ship, a whisper, a secret flame carried along from person to person, bringing a sense of hope to even the dregs.

Most starship crews take their cues from their captain. When the captain's happy, everyone is happy. When the captain's not happy...all tremble. Most of those who serve under Captain Janeway have known more of the latter than the former in recent years, so there is much relief to know that things are going well with the higher-ups.

Every couple of days, Janeway and Chakotay meet up, talk, laugh, and flirt. Some days it's in one of their quarters, other times it's after-hours in the Mess Hall. Once they simply choose to camp out in Astrometrics and look at familiar stars, still so far away. Still, nothing has advanced beyond mending their friendship. There tend to be a few playful hints, some innuendo, but nothing else.

Bob soon finds a new duty has been thrust upon him: matchmaker. Now that he has essentially gotten the ball rolling for them, Kathryn relies on his coaching to get through each stage. When she bemoans the snail's pace they seem to be stuck at, Bob encourages her along, reminding her that nothing worthwhile comes of rushing something good, and urging her to savor it! He choicely recalls to her what happened when she rushed through her breakfast all those weeks ago. Giggling naughtily at her reaction, Bob counts himself lucky not to get banished to his skull for that.

Finally, at Kathryn's request, Bob goes back to visit Chakotay, to find out about his perspective on their relationship. When he appears in Chakotay's vision, all Bob has to say is, "She's ready."

Janeway paces the floor of her quarters, checking the time every few seconds. It's making Bob dizzy to watch.

"What if he's angry? What if he's just not interested in me like that anymore? Or worse, afraid of me?"

"He won't be. I spoke to him, remember?" Bob reminds her. He attempts to hide his annoyance and sound encouraging.

Looking nervously at the doors, Janeway turns back to the ghost. "Bob, I...I can't do this."

Bob pinches the bridge of his nose, warding off an imaginary headache. "Do you love him?" She nods wordlessly, fidgeting. "Then, my dear, there's nothing else you can do." He strolls toward her, standing directly in front of his master. "Darling...it's going to be fine. You both want this. It's not just you."

"What can I say?"

"Maybe you won't have to say much."

Minutes drag out as Janeway continues pacing. Strange as it is, her relationship with Bob has changed very little since they ended their romance. They remain good friends, close friends, and neither one makes any secret of how much they care for each other. It certainly helps now, having someone in her corner.

_Boop-boop-beep!_

Janeway whips around like a spooked colt. "Come in?!" Bob gives her an encouraging look and thumbs-up before swirling away into his skull.

The doors slide open and Commander Chakotay steps in. The two regard each other awkwardly. Neither of them has a clue what to say.

Chakotay stares at his captain, his friend... He remembers Bob's pep talk. It has taken him by surprise, since she and Bob seemed so close, yet the ghost seems to honestly want to see the two of them together. As if he knows their destiny...

With a sudden surge of courage, Chakotay marches forward decisively. In an instant, his arms are around Kathryn's waist, and he pulls her up to his body. He presses his lips to hers, waiting for her to strike out and force him away, but that doesn't happen.

Surprised at the intensity of the physical sensations she's experiencing, Janeway freezes, but after a brief moment, she gives in to the magic coursing through her, and kisses back, running her hands over his shoulders, up to his hair, and back down again. In slow motion, they break apart and just stare at each other, as if all of the intervening years, all of the walls that have been built up, all of the hurts and hardships are dissolving into irrelevance. Bob watches from his skull as Kathryn breaks into a grin and both people begin to giggle. As tears of laughter stream down her face, she rests her head on Chakotay's chest, and he strokes her hair. Her face is obscured from view, but his is full of relief and pure joy. After a few more minutes of observing the couple's reunion, Bob decides to appear before them both together for the first time.

"Well, now, I told you it would turn out all right," he announces gloatingly. Bob saunters around the room easily, circling the pair. "That was very sweet, I must say. I hope I helped in some way."

Chakotay keeps an arm tight around his beloved as she looks up at the ghost. He chooses to ignore Bob's sarcasm and play it straight. "You did, Bob. You helped a lot."

Hearing this, he beams proudly. "Oh good! I'm so glad. Now, something to consider. If you two plan on having children, I'll remind you that Hrothbert is a good, strong name for a boy."

"Bob!" Janeway warns sharply, the command to get in his skull on the tip of her tongue...when a bright light appears by the viewport...

It grows bigger and brighter until it fills the whole window. A figure is silhouetted in it, and appears to be drawing closer. The light fades back and a man stands before the three of them. He looks to be in his late thirties, tall and dark-haired, and ruggedly unkempt.

Bob gasps, frozen, hardly able to believe his eyes. "Harry..." he whispers reverently. Then, joyously, "Harry!" He throws himself at the man, tackling him to the ground in a violent burst of affection. Bob flings his arms around the wizard's neck, kissing him heartily.

"Bob..." Harry tries to talk, not bothering to stop his friend's passionate attack. "Mmm...mmm! Okay, okay. I love you, too. Now let me up." They stand, dusting each other off. Bob can't take his hands off of his old friend, seizing the man around the cheeks and dragging him down for what looks like a lifetime's worth of kisses they've missed out on.

"Dear boy," the older man murmurs lovingly. He looks him up and down in amazement, a dozen questions whirling in his head. He presses Harry's hand to his cheek, squeezing and kissing it before giving up and hugging him again.

Harry smiles, nuzzling his forehead against his friend's. "I got your letter," he tells him softly. There's a long, drawn moment of silence as Kathryn and Bob remember the letter he wrote all those weeks ago. "You did a very unselfish thing. I saw. You were so happy with her." Then, suddenly self-conscious, Harry looks up at his ghost's latest master and gives her a wave. "Hi."

Janeway waves back, staring unashamedly. This is the man she's heard so much about. She doesn't know what he's doing here, but she's happy for Bob to have him back again.

Then, he faces Bob again. "You did the right thing. You were able to put her needs above yours, even though it meant losing her. That was very brave, kind, and good. Now, there was some disagreement over who would get to take you-"

Bob goes even paler than usual, looking very afraid. "Take me where?"

Instead of a verbal response, Harry jerks his head toward the window, to the light from whence he came. Bob claps a hand over his mouth in amazement!

"You mean..._on?_ Wait, who else-?"

Again, Harry nods toward the window, which is filling with light once again. Another figure appears, a woman about Bob's age, dressed in a long blue dress. Her red curls fall past her hips and are shot with gray. Her face is kind and wise, and her bright green eyes gleam with silent rapture. An arrow wound is still evident in her chest, and the sight of the wound sends Kathryn's hand up to her mouth in shock as she realizes who this must be.

Bob stares, prying himself off of his beloved student. "Winifred... Oh, Darling! My love, my dearest...oh...!" He looks rapidly between Winifred and Harry, then rounds back for a look at the captain. He feels guilty, like he's being asked to choose. He stops back at Winifred, unable to get his fill of looking at her. "I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry."

Slowly she nods with a soft smile, brushing his cheek lovingly. This is her Hrothbert: the man she loved, as he was before he turned to Black magic. Winifred wraps her arms around him and kisses him deeply. It was a long time in the making. A moment later, full of joy, she gently pulls away and looks over at Harry and Captain Janeway.

"Thank you both. Thank you for bringing him back."

Janeway sniffles, clinging to Chakotay. It's dawned on her that Bob is leaving, that he finally gets to go on. She can't help it, as happy as she is that his curse is finally broken, she sobs aloud at the thought of the loss of her dear friend

"Kathryn..." Bob suspires, forcing himself to leave Winifred's side. He passes Harry and grasps his shoulder, dropping his hand down to clasp Harry's. His breath comes heavily as he forces himself away from him as well.

Finally he stands before his last master, feeling just as tearful as she looks. He stands as close to her as he may, murmuring softly, "Don't cry, please. You understand, don't you?" He looks between Kathryn and Chakotay, trying to think of appropriate words of farewell for them. "Take care of each other. Be good to each other. Don't screw it up," he adds with a grin. Bob takes a few steps away, then turns back around, facing the captain. "I love you. That's forever, understand? If you find yourself missing me, don't forget to write."

This comment makes Janeway smile through her tears, hugging Chakotay with all of her might. Feeling ill-equipped to deal with this situation, he strokes her hair and her back soothingly.

Bob then goes back to his previous loves, giving a hand to each of them, and they lead him towards the light.


	9. Chapter 9

2447

Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay sleep. They've been lucky enough to be allowed to share a room at the care facility where they live now. At 113 and 120 respectively, they have both lived to see more than they could have imagined. Their triumphant return to the Alpha Quadrant, the celebrity they enjoyed as a result, their growing family...

They got married in 2378, in the Astrometrics lab, so as many of their friends and family could witness it. The aftermath of the party in the mess hall took days to clean up. Apparently, many of the crew had been "pulling for them" for years.

One year later, they were blessed by the arrival of a baby boy, in accordance with the suggestion by her old friend, they named Hrothbert. It seemed fitting to name him after the one who helped bring them back together.

Janeway, who'd once resigned herself to dying alone and childless, now has great-grandchildren to her name, and memories of a lifetime of fulfilling pleasures that come with the territory.

In her drowsy half-asleep state, she remembers when they first returned to the Alpha Quadrant. Soon after the red tape had been cleared up and they were all permitted to go about their own business, Kathryn, Chakotay, and little Hrothbert went on a trip to England. During their journey, she carried with her a rounded parcel. From time to time, she patted or stroked it, smiling to herself, and then at her husband and child.

The transport dropped them off so they could continue on foot. It felt right somehow. Kathryn scanned the horizon, now finding familiar landmarks, as they journeyed to what had been the town of Bainbridge.

The tree was still there, as well as the initials. Kathryn stared at it with misty eyes, clutching Chakotay's hand while she held her son's hand in her other. The three of them stood under it and she knelt down. With a small gardening trowel, she dug a shallow hole. From her bag, she withdrew the ancient carven skull and kissed it goodbye. She buried it, patting the earth down smoothly, and placed a small stone marker over it.

_Here lies Hrothbert of Bainbridge_

_Dear friend and accomplished sorcerer_

Chakotay stood beside his wife and helped her to her feet as they gazed down at the spot where her friend was buried. Together, they felt a surge of gratitude to the one who helped them form this wonderful, happy family. She cuddled in cozily, unable to imagine a life without Chakotay by her side.

Kathryn scooped up her son and kissed his cheek, ruffling up his hair affectionately. Softly, in words a two year old would understand, she told him about her friend, his namesake. How he helped Mommy and Daddy get married, that he had gone to Heaven now for doing that good deed.

Chakotay had added an explanation to the burial, telling their son that they believe it helps the dead rest to be returned to the Earth.

Hrothbert then struggled out of his mother's grasp, went up to the gravesite and called loudly, "Nigh-night, Bob! Bye-bye!"

It has been a good life, overall. Therefore, it should not be at all tragic as she finally breathes her last.

A bright light appears in the middle of the room, and a dazzling figure approaches Kathryn's bed and extends a hand to her. She opens her eyes and smiles, taking his outstretched hand. It doesn't register that this wouldn't be possible outside of a holodeck.

"Bob..."

He smiles back in the way she always liked. Still a charmer. "It's time to go," he tells her gently as he pulls her to her feet.

She looks across the room at her husband, still fast asleep, then at her own body left behind in her bed. She shakes her head, staring silently at the ghost with her hand clapped over her mouth. Pleased to see him after all this time, but unprepared for his purpose. "No, I can't!"

To set her at ease, he falls back into his old bossy tone, "Now, listen, my dear. I have come all this way to fetch you and I'm not leaving here without you. Don't look at me as if I'm the Grim Reaper; I'm here to help."

This gets a smile out of her again. "Like always," Janeway sighs comfortably. She thinks back to the near-death experience she had while captaining _Voyager_, and realizes how very different this feels. This is the real thing, not some fabrication by a malevolent entity. She would never have expected Bob to come for her. This does not smack of trickery. She would have imagined a family member or perhaps an old member of her crew. What a nice surprise. She looks at her hand, still in Bob's, seeing all signs of old age have been wiped from her body. Her head feels clearer, too. So much of the time in recent years, she'd felt confused and muddled, as though her brain was slowly losing its puzzle pieces. Now, she looks and feels as she did the last time she stood before this handsome dead man. Kathryn then looks over at her husband one last time.

"I don't want to leave him. He's going to be upset. I-," her voice breaks, feeling so resistant to the thought of leaving him behind.

"Believe me, he's not far behind," Bob informs her. "You won't be apart for long. Then, you'll be able to come for him. Think how nice that will be."

She looks at their hands again, back up at Bob's face. "What's it like?"

"Quite enjoyable, I promise. When I was brought in, I was sent directly to the recuperation department," he tells her with a grin. "First, you're brought to a lovely hot spring, and you just sit and soak and let it wash all of your troubles and sorrows away. Then, you're tucked into a nice soft bed to rest until you're well. I slept for the last 70 years! Believe me, I needed it. I only just got released and that was for the express purpose of coming for you."

"You dragged yourself out of bed for me?" Kathryn asks playfully, remembering how much Bob liked his sleep.

"It was a big decision, I grant you. I'll probably hit the snooze for a few more years after this before being brought to full spirit status. After that, one is allowed to watch over and intervene in their loved ones' lives. Most get to that fairly quickly, but because of my curse, I was an exception. Spending over a thousand years as a ghost is very tiring. I had a lot of resting up to catch up on. Then, there may be the option to be reborn. The only problem there is I have no family left. I may just stay dead, be a helper to people in need."

"Seems to be a job you're suited for," Kathryn points out. She gives the room one last look, blows Chakotay a kiss and a final wave. "All right, I'm ready."

Bob smiles, putting an arm around her, "Good. Come with me."


End file.
